Angelic Faith
by SweetSouthernSass
Summary: Charlotte Winchester is the sibling between the Winchester brothers. Dean's return brings about new players in their life game of chess with supernatural that are more powerful than ever. Castiel is of a whole other realm from what she's ever known, but the connection she shares with him is obvious right from the beginning. What could it mean? Are there bigger plans for her?
1. Chapter One

**Author's Note**: First ever Supernatural FanFic! This was an idea that I just couldn't get out of my head so I decided to go ahead and type it up! It was crowding my brain and I couldn't concentrate on my Teen Wolf story (Psst! If you _love_ Derek Hale paired with an OC you should totally check it out, wink-cough-wink) so I went ahead with it to get it out. Next thing I knew, I had enough for a whole chapter and the start of a second. So here we are! If people turn out to kind of like it I might continue, if not- hey it was fun! There's nothing like creativity (:

Happy Reading!

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

I woke with a start out of my dream, gripping my head tightly. The pain was immeasurable and I could barely see through my sleep clouded eyes. Stumbling roughly, I made my way down the stairs from my room in Bobby's old rickety house and padded through the kitchen where I headed straight to the refrigerator. I popped open the door and sighed, sending a small prayer of thanks to God before popping the top on a can of Dr Pepper and chugging down a few gulps, wincing as the sharp sting traced its way all the way down to my empty stomach. I quickly popped a few Tylenol in my mouth and swallowed them too before leaning back against the counter.

_Four_ months.

Four long, painful, unbearable months.

That's how long it'd been since we put Dean in the ground. How long it'd been since I felt like I lost a part of my soul when my brother was taken from me. How long it'd been since the nightmares started, seemingly _endless_ visions of screaming, blood and pain.

Four months.

Sometimes I was lucky and didn't dream, didn't wake up screaming in a high pitch that had Bobby running in with a blade _and_ a gun.

But most nights I did.

Bobby wouldn't let me leave though, I had tried. I felt bad, always waking him up at night, the man could hardly get a night of restful sleep with me around. But I was like a daughter to him, my brothers like sons, and he absolutely refused to let me leave even when I felt I'd overstayed my welcome.

Last night was _different_ though.

It had started out like usual, screaming, pain, blood and Dean. But then something _else_ had happened. The cage of hell that my dreams always manifested was flooded with a brilliant, white light. Gorgeous really, it'd taken my breath away, and a high-pitched voice that sounded like...perfection I suppose, had filled the cage. I had watched as a shadow of a figure bathed in the light reached in and grabbed onto Dean.

And then everything went black.

And now I was here, leaning on the counter and sipping my morning caffeine gratefully.

I looked out the window to the morning sky, the blues mixing with pinks as the sun rose, when a sense of someone watching me sent tingles up my spine. I froze, my eyes immediately doing a sweep of the area like my brother had taught me to do after I'd joined the family brigade. But there was nothing out of sorts, no weird happenings, just the early morning quiet being broken my birds. I relaxed and eased back from the counter.

A light rustling sound froze me in my tracks and I whipped around, searching the window frantically.

But there was nothing, again.

_"Weird, something is just weird and weird is never good."_ I warned myself.

Without thinking twice I grabbed at the sawed off shotgun by the backdoor and swung it open, leveling the gun in my hands as I stepped out onto the wooden porch, searching. The light rustling sound reached my ears and I whirled around again right into the looming form of…

Bobby.

"_Jesus_ Bobby! I could've _killed _you! What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that?" I hissed, dropping the gun to my side.

"Well I wasn't exactly sneakin darlin, you just didn't hear me. I called your damn name twice!" He grumbled, easing the shotgun from my hand.

I glanced around again, unable to shake the surveillance feeling, but it was gone now, I could tell. Something had _definitely_ been there though and it didn't bode well for my day. Not many supernatural things ever made it all the way up to Bobby Singer's front porch so whatever it was, it had to be powerful.

"You _do_ know it's customary to put on pants in the morning?" Bobby asked, his bushy brow arching as we stepped back through to the kitchen and I grabbed onto my Dr Pepper once more, nursing it.

"So I've heard." I grumbled, morning grouchiness setting in.

I had long ago gotten over the general embarrassment that occasionally occurred while living with men. My mother died when I was a child and that left me, Dean and our baby brother Sam with our father. Growing up a girl without a mother and having two brothers makes for easy embarrassment through the years. College had been weird, if anything. _Not_ living with boys and living in a sorority house with girls had been more embarrassing than the boys.

Boys I could handle. Girls…sometimes were questionable.

Bobby's scratchy voice cut into my thoughts when he finally couldn't stand it anymore.

"Charlotte Faith, get your _ass_ upstairs and put your pants on!" He snarled.

My brow rose, someone was touchy this morning himself.

"You know, they're called boyshorts. So _technically_, they're shorts." I grinned at Bobby cheekily- he wasn't buying it. "Find, yes _dad_."

I nudged him good-naturedly before disappearing up the stairs, on the hunt for sweats instead of creatures that went bump in the night.

* * *

It had been a slow and pretty much meaningless day for the most part. Basically every day had been since we had buried Dean into the ground in that old field. Bobby was older, no offense to him whatsoever he could _totally_ kick ass when he wanted to, but he wasn't a full-time hunter anymore. Sam had disappeared on me, unable to handle Dean's death since he blamed himself for the deal Dean made. It was ridiculous how the two went back and forth, back and forth with their guilt trips.

And that left me, alone.

Hunters were known to run into more trouble on their own, and honestly, I couldn't stomach it anymore after losing Dean.

So Bobby and I established a routine of cooking, living and just _breathing_.

Something I was having trouble doing at the moment.

I was crouched over the bathroom counter after taking a long and hot bath, trying to suck air into my lungs. It shouldn't have been that hard of a task, my mouth was unobstructed and there was plenty of oxygen, but it was like no matter how big a breath I took in I _wasn't_ getting the air. I sank down to the floor, grabbing at my chest, when finally I took a huge breath in and it worked. My lungs sang in relief as sweet oxygen filled them, and I leaned my head back to wait for the faint black dots in front of my vision to disappear.

"What the hell was _that_?" I panted out loud.

Clawing my way up the bathroom counter top, I gazed at myself in the mirror in total confusion. I quickly padded into my room, intent on dressing and going down to talk to Bobby about it, but a high-pitched almost scream sounded through my brain and I grabbed onto my head tightly, collapsing on the mattress before curling into myself. Bright white light filled the inside of my brain and I felt tears leak down my cheeks from the pain.

Then it was gone.

Just like that, here the _gone_.

I slowly sat up, gazing around my room.

Everything looked totally fine, totally normal, but I was _losing_ it. There was no other explanation, constant nightmares about my brother in hell, weird feelings of being watched, rustling sounds from something that wasn't there, the inability to freakin breathe, and now?

Now high-pitched noises and white light in my head.

Crazy, pure _crazy_.

I wilted down onto the bed and closed my eyes as exhaustion set in. I couldn't handle this, Dean wasn't here. Everything was so much _harder_ without him. Three years apart in age and the boy was my everything, my rock. No one had ever come close to his place in my life, in my heart. Not even Sammy, though I still loved him like nobody's business.

My brother was dead.

My mother? Dead.

Father? Ha, yeah. Dead. (As far as we knew at least)

Other brother? MIA.

I, Charlotte Faith Winchester, had no family left.

Like Bobby, I was _alone_. We only had each other.

And all I could do now, was sleep.

* * *

_~Castiel's POV~_

Castiel heard the faint rustling from the feathers of his wings as he settled in the far corner of the girl's room. She was huddled into a tight ball on the bed, a seemingly sparse sheet barely covering her body as she slept, peacefully.

For once.

He'd been in charge of observing the Winchester girl since the angels became aware that she seemed inexplicably connected to Dean, something _none_ of them had counted on. Not even the highest of ranks. Her dreams were directly connected to her brother, and she experienced in her sleep what he did in Hell.

It was curious, _very_ curious.

Castiel had picked up on her distress just as he'd tried to speak to Dean a little while after his rising. It hadn't worked though, for some reason the Winchester boy couldn't hear him, and Castiel had felt the younger Winchester's distress. When he arrived, she was collapsing on the bed, and had stayed there dozing ever since.

"Puzzling." Castiel murmured.

He approached her slowly, his curiosity getting the better of him, and he carefully reached out through his vessel to touch her cheek. She mumbled something and curled her body toward him, grabbing onto his hand with her soft fingers before grasping it tightly and rolling over. Castiel stumbled as she nearly tugged him down onto the bed behind her, his arm trapped in her tight hold and squeezed against her chest.

The position was compromising…_and_ confusing.

This close to her, Castiel felt a draw. It was almost like he was being sucked into her, like she was steadily pulling him somewhere into her as she mumbled again. He worked his fingers, gently trying to extract himself. She whimpered quietly and Castiel immediately stilled, something seemingly wrenching inside him.

But that _couldn't_ be.

He was an Angel of the Lord, not human.

Working harder this time, he disentangled himself from her grasp, trying hard to ignore the quiet sounds of distress and sadness that came from her as she reached around on the bed to find something…_him_.

"Cannot be." Castiel murmured again.

The rustling filled the room again as he quickly departed, waiting in the wings to observe as Dean's reunion loomed on the horizon.

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

Noise.

Loud noise, shouting, things crashing in the house.

I sat up straight, my eyes wide in fear that my dream had turned to a nightmare.

But the noises continued and I realized I _wasn't_ dreaming anymore. Those dreams had been wonderful, full of light and brightness, and some form of a man who wrapped me in a comfort I hadn't known in years.

_This_ though, was an actual fight going on downstairs.

I jumped up and threw on the rest of my clothes I hadn't finished putting on, not questioning where the blanket had come from that was settled over me, and pummeled my way down the stairs. Before I swung into the kitchen I grabbed yet _another_ gun that was hidden throughout the house and sucked in a breath. With a quiet prayer to get me through this, I whipped around the corner.

And froze.

_Dean_.

Dean was standing in front of me, in the kitchen, a silver knife in his hand and blood dripping down his arm. I stood with wide, bewildered eyes as I took him in, sure that I definitely was dreaming and I'd lose him again soon. He looked a little dirty, little worse for wear, but still Dean. His shocked eyes swung toward me, raking over me as he took in my gun carrying form before a smile began to play on his lips.

Bobby grabbed him in a tight hug after they spoke words I couldn't hear. None of my senses seemed to be working right, I guess they were all on overload at the sight of my older brother who was supposed to be dead and in Hell.

"Charley?" He murmured, taking a step toward me.

I gasped, taking a step backward.

He stopped his advances immediately, putting his hands up in the air with a slightly resigned expression at having to go through the methods of proving himself to be real, and not some supernatural manifestation. But he didn't have to, I could tell it was him. He was my brother.

I could _feel_ it.

The gun clattered to the floor as my fingers lost control of themselves.

Not the safest move in the book, but my brother who'd been dead for months was now standing in my almost-father's kitchen and staring at me with those big green eyes.

"_Dean_?" I whispered, staring.

His smile grew as he nodded to me, taking a few more steps forward.

And then I fainted.

Coming to a few minutes later _wasn't_ very pleasant and I sputtered on what I was pretty sure was Holy Water from Bobby's eternal supply. I was on the kitchen floor, my head in Dean's lap, and Bobby looming over us with a concerned expression.

"Well if anyone ever wondered if I was a demon, I guess the answer's no." I grumbled, wiping at my face.

Dean's laugh filled my ears and I smiled hugely, sitting up quickly despite the throbbing in my head as I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tightly. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as I shook a little in his tight grasp, still clutching at him.

"Who knew you'd become such a _softy_?" Dean murmured, stroking back my hair.

"Shut it." I growled, slamming my fist into his shoulder.

"Ow! _Hey_!" He complained.

"How, how did you get _out_?" I stammered as Bobby reached down to help me up.

Dean shook his head, obviously lost.

"It don't make a lick of sense." Bobby murmured as we moved into the study. "Dean your chest was in _ribbons_, your insides were _slop_, and you've been buried _four_ months."

I pressed a hand to my stomach as I sank down heavily on the couch moaning. "Oh please Bobby, shut the hell up. I'm gonna be _sick_."

There was a chuckle and then a warm hand nudged my shoulder, a Dr Pepper can taking up my visual space. I looked up at Dean thankfully, glad to have the carbonation and to have him back. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed him…actually I had but seeing him made it that much more potent.

"Sorry Char. But even if you could slip out of Hell and back into your meatsuit-" Bobby continued.

"_Seriously_?" I screeched.

"I know, I should look like a 'Thriller' video reject." Dean finished, winking at me.

"What do you remember?" Bobby asked, nodding his head toward my big brother.

"Not much." Dean murmured, his eyes darting away from me.

_Lying_.

He was lying, and he knew that I knew it. My eyes narrowed as I looked to him, wondering what he was hiding.

_"Hell's not exactly a fun place Charlotte, are you really surprised he doesn't want to talk about it?"_ My inner-voice chided me.

"I remember I was a Hell Hound's chew toy," I winced at his words. "And then lights out. Then I come to six-feet under, and that was it."

I stayed quiet, ignoring the sharp glances both men were throwing my way. One was out of concern for my brother, the other was a plea not to say that I knew something different. Dean and I might as well have been twins despite our three-year age difference, and he was well aware I knew he was leaving shit out. He was just hoping I wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

And I wouldn't…for now.

I eased back in my seat as I stared at Dean, noticing Bobby sink into his desk chair to my left. I just couldn't get over the fact that he was really here, I kept pinching myself just to make sure over and over.

"Sam's number's not working. He's not…uh not…" Dean trailed off looking toward me.

"_Dead_? No." I murmured, distracted.

"At least not as far as we know." Bobby finished for me quietly.

Dean sighed with relief before sinking down next to me on the couch. I waited for the moment that came next when the words finally settled in his brain and he picked up on what we were saying.

"Wait, what do you mean as far as you _know_?" He suddenly asked, stiffening next to me.

My brow rose as I looked to Bobby, waiting for him to take the lead. I was still too hurt and too pissed off to talk about the way Sam had just up and left me despite my grief-stricken condition after Dean's death.

"We haven't talk to him for months." Bobby murmured, looking down.

"You're _kidding_. Char? You just let him go off by _himself_?" Dean asked me accusingly.

I crossed my arms in defiance. "Look, it wasn't like I didn't _try_. He practically jumped me Dean. He wanted to go, he _didn't_ want to stay with me here, and he _didn't_ want me coming with him either."

I winced as the hurt crept into my voice. Weak wasn't something I did, and right now I sounded a lot weaker than I was. I was a _Winchester_ dammit, weak wasn't in our vocabulary.

"Look these past months haven't been easy, for _any_ of us." Bobby murmured. "We had to bury you."

Dean's hand tightened on my leg in apology and I instantly leaned into him like I did any time something got me down. He was always there, the perfect comfort, my rock, keeping me centered.

"Why _did_ you bury me anyway?" He murmured, looking down at me.

"Sammy wouldn't have it any other way, and honestly I was too far gone to be of much help with the decision making Dean." I murmured.

"Said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's about _all_ he said." Bobby finished quietly.

I perked up, raising up off of Dean's side as I stared at Bobby in confusion. Did he _not_ see the implications of those words? Why hadn't he told me? Dean's eyes met mine and we shared a knowing look before we were both up and off the couch, facing Bobby.

"Bobby you didn't tell me-" I started.

"What do you mean?" Dean said.

We stopped and grinned some. Talking over each other or at the same time was something we used to always do. Correction, something we _do_ now still.

"He was quiet, _really_ quiet. And Charley was going through a bad time so she was…" Bobby trailed off looking at me.

"Pretty much checked out." I supplied as I cringed.

"And then he just took off, wouldn't return any of our calls. We tried to find him, Char even pleaded with him, but he don't wanna be found." Bobby finished.

"Oh _dammit_ Sammy." Dean muttered, pacing.

"What?" Bobby asked.

"Oh come on Bobby, don't you _see_? Sam _did_ something." I murmured crossing my arms.

"Yeah he got me home okay. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo. " Dean murmured after me, worry lacing his tone.

"What makes you so sure?" Bobby asked, looking at us both.

"Well it's _Sammy_ for one thing." I quipped.

"And you should've seen the gravesite. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this force, this presence. I don't know, but it blew past me at a fill-up joint." Dean stammered out some. "And then _this_."

I watched as he shrugged his jacket off and rolled up his sleeve quickly to expose a red and welted, clearly defined hand print on his left shoulder. I stared at it, completely amazed. I'd never heard of anything like it, and judging by the look on Bobby's shocked face as he stepped closer to Dean, he hadn't either.

"What in the _hell_?" He murmured, dazed.

"It's like a demon yanked me out. Or rode me out." Dean said, shaking his head.

"But _why_?" Bobby asked.

"To hold up their end of the bargain." Dean and I murmured together.

"You both think Sam made a deal?" Bobby asked quietly.

Dean and I looked at each other before nodding. "It's what I would've done." He finished.

I was still staring at the hand print, my eyes narrowing as I looked at it. There was something about it, something that seemed to call to me. I looked up at him and wiggled my fingers before nodding to the mark on his skin. He nodded, looking slightly confused but not unused to my randomness, and I reached out tentatively as I laid my hand right on top of the print.

Bright white light.

Fluttering and rustling like wings.

The high-pitched voice searing through my mind again.

A man, bathed in light like a holy figure.

I gasped, stepping back from Dean and stumbling. He quickly wrapped his arms around me to keep me from falling, guiding me to the couch with a concerned look on his face.

"Charlotte? Char? Are you okay? What was that?" He asked, worry seeping through his tone as he stared at me.

Bobby returned to the room with a wet cloth and I gratefully took it, holding it to my head as the exhaustion seemed to be creeping up on me again just as it had after the breathing incident. I mumbled something about being fine, just needing sleep before I passed out.

Dead to the world.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: **Another chapter! Still just seeing where this leads me! Special thanks to my _awesome_ reader **Dark-n-Twisty** for reading like, all of my stories (;

Happy Reading!

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

When I finally woke up, my dreams bathed in light and pure comfort again, I was sitting in the car with Bobby and Dean in the front seat grinning at me. I groaned as I groggily sat up, pawing at the front seat for the tall fountain drink that was immediately passed back to me so that I wouldn't go into full on bitch mode.

"Where the _hell_ are we?" I asked, squinting at the florescent lights above us.

"Pontiac, Illinois." Dean replied, watching me.

I choked on my drink as my head whipped toward him, staring.

"What the hell are we doing back _here_?" I screeched.

Dean and Bobby both winced before Bobby spoke up. "Sam's here."

I stared at them both before my eyes flickered back to the motel's flashing lights. I looked down at myself, cringing at the wrinkled sweatpants and tight-fitting tank top.

"Jesus Christ." I murmured.

"Something like that." Dean laughed before popping his door open.

I followed the pair of them as we made our way through the motel and up to Sam's apparent new home. I had grumbled to the two of them about my lack of proper clothing, happy to find out that they had packed me a duffel, which was now slung over my shoulder. We stopped outside of room 207 and I eyed the door nervously. Sam was younger than me by a year, but half the time I felt like the younger one, and something told me this little reunion wasn't going to be all that great.

After Dean's less than pleasant knock, more like slamming, a brunette that was a little bit shorter than me popped her head around the door, looking us all up and down.

"So where is it?" She asked.

Dean and Bobby looked at each other before I narrowed my eyes. Call it sister's intuition, but something was up.

"Where's _what_?" I asked.

"The pizza that takes two guys and a girl to deliver?" She replied snottily.

I growled low in my throat. I had just been taken on a long ass road trip, I didn't like the clothes I was dressed in, and I had been rudely awakened. Now was _not_ the time to mess with me. I moved to take a step forward but Dean's hand wrapped around my wrist as he yanked me back in place.

"I think we got the wrong room." Dean remarked, smiling politely.

"Like _hell_ we do, I can feel him-" I hissed.

"Hey is-" a deep voice murmured.

And then there he was, my little brother in all his freakishly tall glory, standing in front of the open doorway. Dean looked at him silently, his eyes going wide and I smiled biting onto my lip to keep the tears locked away inside. Sam's eyes darted to me, Bobby, Dean and back again as he let out these little gasps of air, not understanding.

"Hey ya Sammy." Dean murmured, smiling a little.

He crossed over the threshold toward our little brother slowly, not wanting to spook him. Although that was pretty much impossible to do since, _hello_..he was back from the dead. Something which Sam obviously wasn't taking all too well considering he'd just pulled a knife on Dean as he walked in to hug him. Suddenly I was completely awake and I was reacting just like Bobby did. Sam had Dean against the wall and Bobby slipped into place beside him, grabbing onto his knife-filled arm and his chest as he forced him back.

There was yelling from all three men, screaming from the girl Sammy was shacked up with and then there was me.

Just like any time before when my brothers fought, I slipped between them.

It was kind of comical considering I was also the middle child.

I kept my back to Dean in a protective stance as I pressed a firm hand to Sam's chest, helping Bobby force him back and away from our fresh out of Hell brother.

"Sam! Sam _STOP_! Jesus it's _him_!" I screeched, shoving hard.

It was a mixture of annoyance over this whole display, I mean if Dean wasn't _real_ would Bobby and I really be bringing him here, and over the fact that he just left me high and dry, alone.

"Char get away from him! He could _kill_ you!" Sam shouted. "Who are you? WHO _ARE_ YOU?"

Dean stepped forward and I shot him a glare, shoving him backwards as well. Sam and Dean's relationship was so weird…it was all agree/disagree, guilty/not guilty, mad/happy all the damn time. I couldn't hardly keep up. Dean and I's relationship was so much easier, I followed him usually without question. I mean, I had my stubborn moments sometimes don't get me wrong and I put my own thoughts in just as much as he did, but we were more alike than Sam and he were.

Connected.

"Like _you_ didn't do this?!" Dean was shouting, bringing me back out of my thoughts.

"Dean." I warned, eyeing him.

No need to provoke little brother with a knife in his hand.

"Do _WHAT_?" Sam yelled, still trying to yank me away from my close and protective stance in front of what he thought was demon Dean.

"It's _him_ Sam! Calm down!" I shouted back, shaking his hands off me.

Bobby started talking to him, trying to calm him as he yanked him back from Dean and I further. I turned quickly, checking my big brother over to make sure that Sam hadn't sliced him. Initially I'd lost track of the knife, not exactly professional but a lot was going down all at once, so I hadn't seen if Sam had gotten him any. I let out a huff of air after I was done, Dean rolling his eyes at me though he smiled.

I'd played my mother card, he'd get me for it later.

"It's _really_ him!" Bobby stressed as Sam finally eased up.

"But…" He muttered, confused.

"I know." Dean murmured back. "I look fantastic huh?"

I bit down on my lip to keep the tears in as I chuckled softly. Dammit all to _hell_ with these freaking tears today. Dean had jinxed me with his 'Softy' accusation; I was totally out of control with all these emotions now.

Sam grabbed onto him immediately, hugging our big brother just as tightly as I had done earlier. I let my head drop back and stared at the ceiling, unable to watch and not cry, it was just too…sweet. I counted ceiling tiles in my head, waiting for the embrace to end, when I was grabbed from behind and yanked between them. They proceeded to crush me in the middle of a Winchester family hug, something we didn't do often. Not all three of us at once at least. I laughed quietly as my arms wound around both of their waists, keeping us all tightly bound together as Bobby watched on with wetness gleaming in his eyes.

At least I wasn't the only one.

"So are you three like…_together_?" A feminine voice interrupted our family hug as we pulled apart and my head whipped around.

Oh right, the girl. I'd totally forgotten about her.

I arched a brow as I stared her down, waiting for one of my brothers to answer instead.

"What? _No_!" Sam said strongly as Dean looked at her like she was insane.

Clearly he was _all_ male, I could see the thought cross his face without even having to hear him say it.

"No." Sam said again, "He's my brother, and she's my sister."

"Oh-okay got it, I…guess. I should probably be going." She murmured, confused.

I didn't really blame her, we showed up, Sam greeted us with a knife attack and then here we all were hugging it out. But there was still something about her that rubbed me the wrong way so I couldn't find it in myself to be nice and consoling like I normally was to the multiple girls that came and went throughout my brothers' lives.

"That'd be good." I murmured sarcastically.

I didn't miss the narrow-eyed glare she sent my way.

Dean shoved me as he chuckled and I shrugged, moving into the dimly lit hotel room. My exhaustion was settling back in at an increased rate after the adrenaline pumping showdown we'd just finished so I eyed the bed cautiously, wondering what exactly was on there. I wrinkled my nose and pulled the comforter up, smoothing it out. I prayed silently I wouldn't catch anything as I crashed onto the thing on my stomach, watching the boys as they got rid of Sam's little friend.

There was silence as we stared at what looked like a pretty cocky new version of Sam while he sat at the edge of the bed next to me.

"So tell me, what'd it cost?" Dean asked, staring our brother down.

Jumping right into business then were we?

"The girl?" Sam asked, chuckling. "I don't pay Dean."

I rolled my eyes at his arrogance and shoved him hard, still not forgetting the fact that he'd left me. My anger was coming back in sharp waves and I was pissed.

"He's _not_ talking about the freakin girl Sam." I growled.

"To bring me _back_." Dean replied. "What'd it cost?"

My brow arched as I picked up on his rising tone, he was beginning to sound a lot like our father. I noticed Sam stiffen some and my eyes cut to him, wondering what he was hiding. I looked to Bobby to see if he'd noticed as well, but he was just staring at my brother harshly, calculating, waiting.

"Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?" Dean asked quietly, his arms crossing over his chest.

"You think I made a _deal_?" Sam asked incredulously.

"That's _exactly_ what we think." I jumped in. "All of us."

Sam looked at my in surprise and I think I noticed his eyes widen at the anger he saw in my eyes but I held my ground, refusing to break for his puppy-dog stare that he always gave me so he could get out of things when we were younger.

"Well I _didn't_." Sam said, concentrating on lacing his shoes.

"Don't lie to me." Dean threatened.

"I'm not lying!" Sam murmured.

I winced at the tone in his voice and literally felt the tension in the air double as my two explosive brothers faced off between themselves. It dimly occurred to me _why_ I fit so good in the middle, where they were each black and white in their ways of thinking and ideas, I was every other color in the book. I accepted possibilities that they deemed impossible, saw the good when they could only see bad.

I compromised where they fought.

A small grin lit onto my face at the thought and I stood up to watch the impending confrontation that I already knew was coming.

"So what, I'm off the hook and you're on now is that it?" Dean sneered, stepping forward. "You're some demon's bitch boy? I didn't want to be saved like _this_!"

I cringed at his yell and closed my eyes on the idea of returning pain if he hadn't been saved. I was thankful, regardless of what was done to get him out. As a hunter and a Winchester, I was more than aware that it could have major repercussions, but right now?

I _didn't_ care.

Sam sprang up, his own sneer in place as he bit out his words. "Look Dean I wish I _had_ done it alright?"

Before I knew it I was jostled around as Dean moved me out of the way and grabbed onto Sam's shirt front aggressively, getting in his face as he yelled. "There's no other way that this could've gone down. Now tell the _truth_!"

Sam smacked his arms away from him as he spoke and I used that as my opportunity to once again position myself between the two of them, a single hand resting on both of their chests as I glanced between them worriedly.

"- tried _everything_ but no demon would deal! You were rotting in hell for months, for months…and there was _nothing_ I could do. I'm sorry Dean." Sam said, his voice lowering from a yell to barely above a whisper. "I'm _sorry_."

"It's okay Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you." Dean murmured, looking off in space.

I winced as a flash from my nightmares hit the inside of my mind, the screaming and blood splashing around in my skull before I pressed my hand to my eyes and breathed deeply. When I looked up again it seemed no one had noticed, Sam just looked angry and little alarm bells went off somewhere in my mind. Dean was still staring off in space. It was Bobby who finally broke the silence that had settled among my brothers and I as we stood in a line.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but that _does_ raise a sticky question."

I looked between Dean and Sam before placing my hands on my hips as I ran fingers through my long mane of hair.

"If _he_ didn't pull you out…" I murmured. "Then what the hell _did_?"

* * *

An hour or so after sitting around and hashing out ideas, none of which amounted to much, Bobby had gotten up to see if we could make a trip to Pam's. She was a psychic, one of Bobby's friends, and our best chance of finding out something about what and/or who pulled Dean from the depths of Hell. I had grinned deviously when Bobby brought up the idea of going to see Pam. I'd met her a few times after Dean's death and Sam's disappearance.

And I _adored_ her.

I had gone through a really rough bought, obviously, and Bobby just couldn't sit by and watch anymore. So one morning he announced we were going to see and old friend of his, and after a bunch of fighting where I demanded I get to stay home, I ended up in the passenger seat of the car. The next few days were a nonstop funfest, if that was even possible in the kind of world we lived in, and Pam officially pulled me out of the deep depression I'd been lurking in.

"She's about four hours down the interstate." Bobby explained as the four of us trampled down the stairs. "Try to keep up."

I rolled my eyes and Bobby. "Because you're _such_ a speed demon pops."

"Watch that mouth of yours little one." He laughed, sliding into his seat.

I winked and followed the boys toward the Impala, immediately rushing toward her and running my hand over the jet black paint before pressing a kiss to the hood.

"I missed you." I crooned softly, grinning.

"Hey that's _my_ line!" Dean complained from next to the driver's side door.

"Whatever big brother, she's always secretly loved _me_ more." I teased.

He glared at me and I officially lost my dibs on shotgun. Sam laughed and I glared at him as he ushered me into the back seat before I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted, something they both tried hard to ignore. I was famous for my pouts with my brothers, they usually always got me my way.

"What the hell is _that_?" Dean asked harshly.

I perked up and leaned up to get a look at what he was talking about before a smirk lit my face when my eyes landed on the offending object he was eyeing resentfully. Sam had gotten an iPod jack and hooked it up to the car so he could use that instead of the radio.

"That's an iPod jack." I quipped, grinning brightly despite Sam's glare he threw over his shoulder at me.

"You were supposed to take care of her, _not_ douche her up." Dean muttered, glaring at our baby brother.

I might just get shotgun dibs yet.

"Dean, I thought it was my car." Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

"Nu-uh! She was supposed to be _mine_, you just freakin _took_ her!" I accused, narrowing my eyes at him.

Dean glanced between the two of us, a smug smile lighting his face.

"Charley, would you ever have done something like this to my baby?" He asked in a teasing voice.

I gasped audibly, shaking my head. "_Never_!"

Sam just sat there glaring at us both as Dean slid the gear into reverse before putting her in drive and peeling out of the shady motel parking lot after our ears had been blasted with some awful twangy music Sam had been listening to.

"_She_ gets shotgun first dibs from now on." Dean muttered.

I squealed and fist pumped the air while Sam let out an outraged sound, instantly beginning to argue with our big brother over the rules of shotgun and how it wasn't fair that he lost first dib rights over a stupid iPod jack. I giggled quietly and eased myself into the seat, watching my brothers with a grin on my face.

I had them both back, and I couldn't be happier.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note: **Ah third chapter! Super long, oops! I should possibly start trying to think up a pairing name. Suggestions? (:

Happy Reading!

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

It was daylight when Dean gently shook me awake after lifting me out of the car and setting me on my feet again. I lazily opened my eyes, not quite ready to leave the wonderfully bright and comforting dreams I had been cocooned in for the past four hours or so as we travelled to Pam's. My brow furrowed as we waited, leaning up against the car, for Bobby to show up with caffeine.

This was the _third_ time my dreams had been full of light and warmth.

In the last twenty-four hours, I had dreamed and slept better than I had in years, especially since before Dean had come back after being carted off to hell. If I wasn't a hunter I would just be happy, grateful.

But I was.

And something _told_ me that it wasn't quite right, not quite normal.

I decided to pull Pam off to the side after we tried to figure out what had happened with Dean. Being psychic and having as many ties as she did to different supernatural this and that's, there was a good chance she could tell me if something was up or not.

Bobby immediately handed me the tall fountain drink he'd snagged me from a Seven Eleven before we made our way up to Pam's wooden porch. Despite my lack of enthusiasm for early mornings, a large grin dawned on my face as I waited for Pam's arrival after Bobby's loud knocking.

"Why are you so smiley?" Dean murmured, nudging me.

I stayed quiet and arched a brow, nodding to the door as it swung open and a laughing voice filled our ears.

"_Bobby_!" Pam grinned, grabbing onto him in a tight bear hug where she actually lifted him up off the ground.

Dean and Sam eyed each other in surprise.

"Charlotte Faith! I _swear_ you get more and more gorgeous every time I see you!" She shouted, grabbing me in a tight hug after she released Bobby. I felt my brothers stiffen in surprise, glancing from me to Pam and back again.

"Ahh Pam! Why aren't you living with Bobby and me again?" I teased, winking at her.

"Because between the two of you I'd pull out what's left of my hair." Bobby grumbled.

We laughed as we separated before she slung an arm around my shoulders and turned me with her to face Dean and Sam.

"So, are _these_ the boys?" She murmured, looking them each up and down.

"You mean the pains in my ass that I'm stuck with for the rest of my life?" I grinned, teasing. "Yep this is them."

"Sam, Dean- Pamela Barnes. Best damn psychic in the state." Bobby introduced her proudly.

They grinned and said their hellos, and I noticed Dean was already halfway through his usual list as he checked her out. I grinned and rolled my eyes, crossing over the threshold into the warm house first and leaving Pam and Dean to eye-fuck each other. Sisters shouldn't be present for that.

"Mm-mm-mm. Dean Winchester, out of the fire and _back_ into the frying pan huh?" She murmured, watching him. "Makes you a rare individual."

"Or luckier than Hell. _Literally_." I quipped, standing behind her shoulder.

Dean glared at me.

The men of my life moved into the foyer and crowded around me as we waited for Pam to follow and show us to the main room we'd be setting up for this mojo in.

"So, you hear anything?" Bobby asked, turning toward her.

"Well, I Ouija-ed my way through a dozen spirits," she sighed. "No one seems to know _who_ broke your boy out, or why."

"Well, that's reassuring." I said sarcastically.

Pam winked at me and Dean's eyes traveled back and forth between us, narrowing as he attempted to read something into the interaction that wasn't there. I could see the game Pam was spinning though and decided to go along with it, pretty sure the end result would lead to a hilarious freak out from my brothers that I hadn't pulled off in a long time.

"So what's next?" Bobby asked suspiciously.

"A séance I think." Pam answered, crossing her arms. "See if we can _see_ who did the deed."

"Awkward." I interjected, much to my brothers' annoyance.

"You're not gonna summon the damn thing _here_ are you?" Bobby asked, worried.

"Nah." She laughed. "I just want to get a sneak peek at it, like a crystal ball without the crystal."

She grinned and winked at me again as she led us into the main room. I heard Bobby sigh dramatically with worry after Dean said he was game for it and grinned, sipping my drink before I stopped what I was doing to help her settle the black cloth with all the symbols marking it she used for these kinds of rituals. Bobby started on the curtains, closing them one by one, and I moved to help him while Pam gathered the candles she'd need.

And my brothers…did nothing.

Except check Pam out.

I rolled my eyes as I came to a stop between them, settling myself right in the middle as I usually did. It always comforted me to have them on either side, their height reaching higher than mine and their builds much broader. I always felt protected.

"Stare at her ass much longer and you might get your eyes stuck." I murmured, nudging Dean's hip.

"I wouldn't mind." He smirked. "Who's Jesse?"

I rolled my eyes as he called over to Pam, clearly wanting to know the story of her tattoo. She laughed loudly as she looked over her shoulder at us.

"Well it _wasn't_ forever." She grinned.

"His loss." Dean flirted.

I chuckled quietly with Sam, recognizing that Dean was one hundred percent Dean still yet.

"Might be _your_ gain." She murmured coming closer to him.

I snickered quietly as she moved away to line the candles up on the table while Dean nodded in his smooth-guy impression before turning around with Sam.

"Dude, I'm _so_ in." He said, his voice low.

"Yeah, she's going to eat you alive." Sam joked, laughing.

I kept giggling quietly, shaking my head in disbelief at my brothers. Pam's grin met mine as she turned around to take the last few candles from my open hands and she shot me a fake-flirty wink for my brothers' benefit before speaking.

"You're invited too sweet-cheeks."

Sam choked on air, literally choked on the air he was trying to suck into his lungs as he stared at me wide-eyed. Dean's expression was the same as he shook his head violently, definitely not okay with the idea of the extra invitation.

"You are _NOT_ invited." He whisper-yelled to me.

I laughed, still shaking my head.

"Did you…and she…have you?" Sam tried.

"_Jesus_ Sam, no. She's totally doing that just to freak you guys out." I rolled my eyes.

I walked away still laughing as I took my seat between hers and Dean's, waiting excitedly. I had a request to link up with her and I was hoping she'd let me try it again like we had before. Bobby still looked nervous, and my other two brothers looked like they didn't know rather to believe what was happening or not. But _I_ did, I had seen Pam work her mojo the last time I was here.

"Alright, take each other's hands." She murmured.

Dean and I grasped hands while Sam and Bobby did around the table to form the circle and I waited as she looked at me knowingly.

"And _I_ need to touch something our mystery monster touched." Pam said again, grinning as her hand slipped across my lap and toward Dean's.

"_Whoa_!" Dean shouted, his leg slamming against the table in surprise. "Well he didn't touch me _there_!"

I arched a brow at her laughing apology and watched as Dean rolled up his sleeve, revealing the red and welted hand print I'd touched before. Flashes of the images that had run through my head at the time dimly came back and I bit into my lip as I wondered what they were. Sam looked completely transfixed on the hand print, his eyes darting back and forth between it and Bobby, and Bobby just looked plain worried.

"You want in don't you?" Pam murmured, looking to me.

"You _know_ it." I grinned.

"Want in _what_?" Dean asked uncertainly.

"Sometimes if I'm connected to Pam _I_ can see what _she_ sees." I said excitedly.

"How can you-" Bobby started.

"Don't know, but she can. Let's get this started." Pam murmured, settling her hand on the print marring Dean's shoulder.

I squeezed down on Dean's hand before throwing him a wink to ease his worry and I reached across the table, laying my left hand on hers. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, waiting for her to begin.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, appear unto me before this circle." She murmured quietly, repeating the words.

I waited anxiously and slowly my darkened vision began to lighten, like a lamp was glowing brighter in a far off distance. It was brilliant and seemed to pulse brighter still as she continued repeating her words. Dimly I realized that the light was a _lot_ like the one that came to me in my dreams, and as it became increasingly brighter the same feeling of calm and warmth washed over me, leaving me sighing in relaxation. It was perfection and as I gazed into the light as it continued to glow, actually making me squint a little, I began to faintly make out the shadowy shape of a figure. It was pulling me in gently, like there was a cord tying it to me and slowly it shortened, drawing me nearer.

Dean's hand tightened on mine, drawing me out of my trance a little and I heard the static of Pam's TV crackling in the room.

When had _that_ turned on?

"Castiel?"

I froze and sat up straighter, my hands gripping Dean's and Pam's tightly as the name flowed through my mind. I _recognized_ that name, somehow I knew-

"No. Sorry Castiel, I don't scare easy." Pam's determined voice cut of my thoughts and I felt her push harder to see him as I rode her psychic waves.

"Castiel?" I murmured involuntarily.

A pulsing shiver ran up my spine and I felt my eyes almost roll back in my head as the name slipped off my tongue, wrapping me in what felt like a thick and fluffy warmth almost. Except there _wasn't_ anything thick and fluffy around me.

_"What the hell?"_ I thought to myself.

"Its name." Pam answered, thinking I was saying the name in question instead of recognition. "It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back."

I squeezed my eyes shut in confusion, why would it be telling her to do _that_? I felt nothing but warmth and comfort, I couldn't imagine why something that felt like that would warn Pam away. I concentrated in my mind again, watching as the figure became more and more apparent, the shadows slowly slipping away to reveal what looked to be a person, almost a man but different. Extremely tall, bathed in white and golden light, and something else hovered behind his back, fanning out to form a giant shape.

"Show me your face! Show me your face!" Pam shouted, pushing harder as the table began to shake and vibrate underneath our hands.

"_Charlotte look away. Do not follow the psychic, look away from me." _

I gasped and clenched down on Dean's hand in a bone-crushing hold, panting for breath. The _voice_, the voice was the same that had been in my dream the morning Dean had risen from his grave…the morning he'd been ripped from Hell. The same one that had come into the cage, filling it and me with the same white light filling up my mind now.

The one of perfection.

"_Stop Charlotte, you must stop now!"_ The high and perfect melodious voice screamed into my mind, leaving a sharp sting behind my eyes.

"_I can't! She won't quit pushing!"_ I mentally screamed back to it.

"_You must try! You must break away-"_ It screeched through my mind again.

And suddenly it was pure chaos in the room.

Pam was screaming and I snapped my eyes open to see _her_ eyes filled with the same light that had been inside my mind while the candle flames blazed much higher than they should, almost like they'd been hooked up to lighter fluid. Dean ripped my hand away from hers, breaking the connection, and I gasped when I saw the blood course from her eyes to her cheeks as she slumped down and fell from the chair to the floor.

"Call 911!" Bobby yelled to Sam.

I watched in a complete daze as he rushed out on the phone while Bobby scrambled to the floor, picking Pam up from it and held her up. She was crying as she murmured over and over, gasping for air. Dean was yanking me from my chair as he hastily checked me over, grabbing my face roughly as he looked into my eyes.

"I'm fine! I'm _fine_ Dean, it's Pam that's hurt _not_ me!" I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

"The _hell_ you are! Don't you _ever_ do something like that again or-" He snapped.

Pam's high and painful scream cut him off though and I instantly dropped to the floor, kneeling over her in concern. When she opened her eyes a soft scream escaped from my lips.

They were _gone_.

Her eyes were completely gone, _vaporized_ from her skull.

All that was left were two empty, bloody holes.

"I can't see!" She cried. "I can't see."

"Oh God, please. This _can't_ be happening." I murmured softly, squeezing her hand.

But it was.

Bobby and Dean shared confused and worried looks before looking to me. It was obvious what they were wondering, why hadn't the same thing happened to me? I'd been riding Pam's sight tightly, unable to pull away, but the light had a completely different effect on me than it did her. Where she had literally fried, I had only felt warm and comforted. My eyes were still intact, perfectly fine.

"_Castiel."_ I murmured inside my mind, trying out the name again. The same feeling of warmth filled my body, wrapping me in comfort. _"What the hell is going on?"_

* * *

About an hour later I found myself sitting at an old rickety table at the first diner in town we came across. Pam had been rushed by ambulance to the hospital and Bobby had followed after her quickly. That left Sam, Dean and I with nothing to do, time to spare, and too much to think about. Sam got up to call Bobby and check in a few minutes after we had gotten there so that left me and Dean arguing over what type of pie to get.

His obsession with pie was _never_-ending.

I leaned across the table to smack him across the shoulder for stealing my menu when a sharp sting zipped through me as my jeans brushed across my hip. I sucked in a quick breath but Dean was so busy laughing, he didn't notice. Slowly, I rolled my shirt up and pushed the waistband of my jeans down a bit searching for what made the sharp and quick pain roll through my body.

I nearly had to bite back a scream when I saw what was there.

It was a symbol of some sort that looked like it had been _burned _into my skin.

Not gruesome or bloody in any way, the thing looked like I'd had it tattooed on me weeks ago, the faint pink lines of healing over the scar tissue clear. But I _hadn't_ had it done, it _hadn't_ been there this morning, and it _wasn't_ going away- even as I blinked repeatedly, sure I was hallucinating.

"What are you lookin' at down there?" Dean teased beside me.

I dropped my shirt down immediately, sitting bolt upright. "Nothing."

His eyes narrowed at me before he spoke. "Charlotte-"

"Dean Winchester, I am _not_ the only one lying here. So if you're _really_ ready to talk about things we haven't told each other since you got out of jail free, try me." I glared at him.

We faced off, each glaring at the other sternly.

Sammy ended up forcing us to call a truce…for now.

"What'd Bobby say?" I asked hurriedly when he approached the table.

"Uh, Pam's stable and out of ICU." Sam sighed.

"And blind. Cause of us." Dean finished darkly.

"And we _still_ have no clue what we're dealing with." Sam added.

I shifted uncomfortably, something tickling my mind in the back corner of it. Kind of like when you're trying to remember something you were going to say, or someone's name, and the harder you try to remember the further it slips away from you.

"That's not entirely true," Dean said, his eyes cutting to me like he sensed my feelings.

"No?" Sam asked.

"We got a name...what was it-" Dean murmured.

"Castiel." I replied immediately, the name familiar and somehow right as it slipped off my tongue. Again I felt the warmth fill me up from the inside out, like the light that I now associated with the name was wrapping me up tightly.

"Yeah. With the right mumbo jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us." Dean finished.

"You're _crazy_." I murmured.

"_Absolutely_ not." Sam added.

"We'll work him over. I mean, after what he did?" Dean said, gesturing with his hands.

Something had me on edge, defending the faceless name immediately without thinking. "He _told_ her to stop looking."

Silence.

Both Sam and Dean turned to look at me incredulously and I felt a blush creep over my slightly tanned skin, showing a faint pink. I shrugged noncommittally, not wanting and not knowing how to explain the defensiveness in my tone.

Sam shook his head, turning back to Dean. "Pam took a _peek_ at him and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face-to-face?"

"You got a better idea?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Probably." I quipped, arching a brow at my brother's murderous expression.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. I followed some demons to town right?" Sam said.

"Correcto mundo." I answered, grinning at my own comment.

My brothers rolled their eyes…fun suckers.

"So we go _find_ them. Someone's gotta know something about something." Sam finished as the waitress stopped at our table with our order.

She set down the plates of pie and I immediately stole the first bite from Dean's as he did from mine, before the chick sat down at our table. Her smirk was obvious as she looked from Dean, to Sam, to me.

"Um…_hi_?" I said in a snotty tone while Dean hit my leg under the table with his.

"You angling for a tip?" Dean grinned.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were looking for _us_." She said, and suddenly her eyes filtered to pure blackness.

I froze with a bite halfway to my mouth.

_Demons_.

Three to be exact, and by her introduction I'd say they were the ones that Sam had been following. My brothers stiffened, glancing at each other as one of the ungodly brutes walked to the front door and snapped the lock into place.

"Dean…" she started, watching him closely. "To Hell and back. Aren't _you_ a lucky duck."

I glared at her, stiffening noticeably and jolting forward in my seat at her threatening tone even as Dean held me in place underneath the table. He knew from past experience that I tended to be a _little_ overprotective when it came to him and would act without thinking.

Nothing had changed.

"That's me." He murmured, a small smirk on his face.

"So you get to just stroll out of the pit huh. Tell me, what makes _you_ so special." She asked sarcastically, obviously annoyed.

"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples." He grinned, chuckling some.

"Or those green eyes." I hummed, flashing my perfectly straight and white smile at her.

Her eyes narrowed and silence stretched out.

"I don't know. It wasn't my doing, I don't know _who_ pulled me out." Dean finally filled the silence, surprisingly enough with the truth.

"Right, you _don't_." She scoffed.

"_No_, I don't." Dean growled.

"Lying's a _sin_ you know." She countered.

I snorted unattractively, shaking my head. "_You're_ one to talk bitch."

Her head whipped toward me and I steeled myself as her eyes flashed to their black color again, taking away everything that made them look human. A low guttural sound came from her throat before the switched back and she looked at me hard.

"My, my. _Charlotte_ Winchester. Aren't you just _glowing_." She snarled.

My eyes narrowed as I watched her gaze at me, taking in the perplexed expression she held before she turned to continue her little talk with Dean. Sam looked at me funny and I shrugged. I had absolutely _no_ clue what the chick was talking about.

_"Yes you do. You've had light-filled dreams and you just walked out of a summoning with something that burned out Pam's eyes with the same light. And now a demon says you're glowing?"_ My inner-voice rang out inside my mind.

_"Coincidence."_ I snapped inwardly.

_"Yeah."_ My inner-voice scoffed. _"There are none of those, not in this life."_

The sharp sound of skin smacking against skin yanked me out of my inner turmoil and my eyes widened as I watched Dean smack the demon across the face.

_Twice_.

But she didn't do anything, only turned her head back around, breathing heavily. I looked back and forth between Sam and Dean who were both eyeing her carefully, trying to figure out what the hell I'd missed.

"That's what I thought." Dean murmured, satisfied. "Let's go Charley, Sam."

I was out of my seat like lightning, instantly moving into the protective space between my two brothers as we made our way out of the diner, passing by all three demons without another word or a single scratch despite the low sound of the growl that sounded out behind us. I gasped in deep breaths of air when we made it outside, the adrenaline overloading my system and pumping my blood through my body fast and hard.

"Holy _crap_ that was close." Dean cursed, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walked quickly toward the car.

"Oh God, oh God what _was_ that? Why did she just _sit_ there? What the _hell_ is going on?" I shrilled, glancing back over my shoulder.

You know, just in case.

"We're not just gonna _leave_ them in there, are we Dean?" Sam asked quickly.

"Sammy! _Seriously_?" I shrieked. "There's three of them, and I don't know about you but I haven't exactly been training these last four months. And this one," I said gesturing toward Dean. "Just popped out of _Hell_!"

"And we've only got one knife between us." Dean added, moving us toward the Impala.

"I've been killing a lot more demons than _that_ lately." Sam responded confidently.

I glanced up at him sharply, my eyes narrowing. Hunting by himself he'd been killing more than that? The only way he could do that was if he was using his freaky demon abilities and he had promised, I mean _promised_, Dean he wouldn't.

"Yeah well not anymore, the smarter brother's back in town." Dean said, finality in his tone.

"Dean, we _got_ to take them. They are dangerous." Sam said, pressing harder.

"Seriously, what's _with_ you and this major demon-killing high?" I murmured quietly.

He looked at me sharply but ignored my question, facing back to Dean. Something that didn't go unnoticed by our older brother.

"They're scared." Dean snapped. "Scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We're dealing with a bad mofo here, _one_ job at a time Sam."

I literally felt Sam seething next to me, his jaw clenched and nose flaring as he continued to walk beside us, completely ignoring us. I looked up to Dean in silent communication and he nodded slightly, his eyes darting back over to Sam.

Something _in_ him had changed.

* * *

_"Charlotte, you should not be here."_

_My head snapped around in the light filled room, searching out the source of the high-pitched but musical tone. I tried to shield my eyes so I could widen them and see better, searching for the silhouetted figure that stood in the center of light._

_"Me? This is my dream! How am I not supposed to be here?" I called, clearly annoyed._

_"You need to turn back. Were the consequences of your friend's spying not enough?" The voice called again, chastising me._

_"Look buddy, you're in my dream. Maybe it's you who should take a hike." I snarled._

_This guy was pissing me off with his holier than thou attitude. Where did he get off slipping into my dream and then telling me to go?_

_"You called me here." He murmured, his voice rising and falling like waves of shrill but soothing music._

_I stared at the figure harder, slowly making out the extreme height of him, the way the light seemed to be pulsating and glowing from his center, the large and looming shape of something curved and angular fanning out around him._

_What the hell was he?_

_That's what I opened my mouth to ask, but different words came out instead, ones that I had absolutely no intention of saying._

_"A demon told me I was glowing." I murmured, confused._

_A sharp fluttering sound filled my ears as the shadowed figure seemed to come closer without meaning to, almost reaching out, and then there was silence._

_"What?" He said, almost…stunned._

_"A demon. She said I…I was glowing." I stammered, unsure after his reaction._

_"Charlotte you must tell me-" He started, his tone serious._

_But something shook me sharply, making my head snap around even though nothing was there and the figure was much too far away to be responsible. I turned away from it at what sounded like Dean's worried voice, calling to me over and over._

_"I have to go." I said quickly, moving toward my brother's voice._

_"Wait! Charlotte you cannot,-" He said moving toward me._

_"I'm sorry." I whispered regretfully._

And then I was floating back into consciousness as Dean's panicked face came into view. He was breathing heavily and sweating, blood dripping from his ears. I gasped and sat up immediately, wincing as something sharp sliced my hand.

"_Ow_! What the…what the _hell_ happened to you!" I shrieked, staring at my bloody brother.

"I could say the same for _you_! When did you become such a sound sleeper that I can't yell in your ear and wake you up?" He shouted, helping me to stand.

"Sure as hell wasn't while you were in the pit. She barely made it through a night without screaming." Bobby supplied.

I whirled around and glared at him when Dean stiffened, worry and guilt filling his eyes over my apparent issues with his death.

"_Nice_ Bobby, make him feel guilty when there was _nothing_ he could do about it." I snapped.

"Oh I didn't, I mean…" Bobby trailed off.

I looked up into Dean's sad eyes and patted his chest before wiping some of the blood from his jaw. "It wasn't your fault. Don't _even_ try to take that on to your guilt plate that we both know is always piled so freakishly high."

He nodded, though I wasn't convinced he was listening, and looked around the room. I followed his actions and gasped as it all came into view for the first time.

There was glass _everywhere_.

The windows were busted out, the tacky mirrors that had been affixed to the ceiling for only _God_ knows what reason had shattered and cracked before apparently falling down to the floor, the radio and TV both looked completely fried. Anything glass or electronic was completely decimated. I vaguely wondered how I had been able to make it through this _without_ waking or getting hurt but assumed Dean had grabbed me and shielded me judging by his level of dishevel.

"_Holy_…what the hell happened?" I whispered, turning to face my brother.

"It came back. The force or whatever, Castiel, I don't know. It came back." He answered quietly.

I gasped again, lowly. "Did you _see_ it?"

He shook his head, glancing around. "No, _this_ is all that happened. This and a high-pitched ringing that was so unbearable it literally made my ears bleed."

I looked up worriedly at both Bobby and Dean. "Housekeeping is going to kill us."

* * *

An hour or so later I found myself sitting on a table that was piled high with every weapon we had ever known to kill something supernatural. I was anxious, uneasy, even more so than Bobby and _that_ was pretty hard to accomplish_ because he in no way, shape, or form wanted to go forward with Dean's ingenious _plan_._

To summon Castiel.

I, for _some_ reason, wasn't nervous about the idea of summoning the faceless name however. For _some_ reason, I was totally on board with the plan, though I didn't like the idea of killing it.

And _that's_ what made me nervous.

Instead of being ready to rain hell on whatever it was that this thing happened to be, I wanted something else. But _what_ that something else was, I couldn't figure out. Again, it was like that thing where you're trying hard to remember something and the harder you try the more impossible it becomes.

"That's a hell of an art project you got going there."

Dean's chuckling voice filtered through my ears and brought me out of my thoughts. I glanced up and coughed, noticing the dim hazy hue of the room from all the spray paint fumes that were filling it. Bobby had been spray painting different symbols and signs all across every available space in the old abandoned barn we'd crashed for well over thirty minutes, it was a wonder we weren't all high out of our minds.

"_Jesus_ Bobby," I coughed, looking around. There were some signs I'd never even _seen_ before. "What _is_ all this?"

"Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe." He replied, setting the can next to me after walking back toward my brother and I. "How're you doing?"

I glanced up to my brother who stood next to my seated form staring down at the arsenal next to me.

"Stakes, iron, silver, salt, the knife…I mean, we're pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of." He said confidently.

The hair on the back of my neck rose and a sharp stinging pain seemed to fan out from where I'd found the burned symbol in my skin at the word 'kill'.

"Do we _have_ to kill it?" I asked, almost childishly. "What if it's not bad?"

Bobby and Dean stared at me like I'd lost my ever-loving mind. I shook my head quickly, waving them on to continue their conversation, though Dean continued to glance at me sharply now and then.

"This is _still_ a bad idea." Bobby murmured.

"Yeah Bobby, I heard you the first ten times." Dean sighed.

I nudged him sharply. "_Hey_, he's just trying to keep us alive Hell boy."

He glared hard at me.

"Too soon?" I grinned sheepishly.

Bobby grinned and patted me on the back before we both turned back toward Dean, waiting for him to tell us our next move. He glanced at me almost regretfully and I arched a brow, straightening my spine. I was a Winchester, and if he even _thought_ about trying to make me leave, I'd kick his ass.

"Alright. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?" He murmured, nodding his head.

Bobby gave him an annoyed but fatherly look before squeezing my shoulder and moving to the table opposite me, sprinkling his ritual dust and beginning the summoning. I sat with my hands folded and eyes on the door, excited energy flowing through my body rapidly.

It was _game_ time.

Only it wasn't, because we waited. And waited. Waited some more. Played a game of tic-tac-toe in the salt. Waited.

_Nothing_.

I sighed and pulled out a nail file from my bag, shaping and buffing my short but manicured nails. Four months of no hunting and I'd actually had time to delve back into the girly things I _used_ to do in my life. Bobby's whistling filled the barn as he and Dean both messed with the weapons the held in their hands.

"You _sure_ you did the ritual right?" Dean asked, exasperated.

Bobby glared at him, tiling his head.

"Sorry, sorry." Dean murmured, going back to his knife turning. "Touchy, touchy huh?"

I giggled quietly shaking my head and earning a grinning smirk from Dean as reward.

Sighing, I slumped against him. "_Seriously_, what the hell-"

And just like that a howling, raging wind cut me off and ripped the words from my mouth.

Dean and Bobby both jumped up, immediately standing in front of me. I was annoyed and thankful at the same time and my eyes darted up to see the sheet metal that had formerly been tacked onto the roof shaking and ripping up from the beams that made up the barn's ceiling. Bobby looked around with wide eyes, but Dean seemed basically unafraid for the most part.

"Here we go." I murmured.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind." Dean joked.

No one laughed.

Loud popping noises filled the open expanse and I looked up to see the bulbs of the overhead lights shattering, raining down sparks on us. I squealed and ducked my head some, only to have Dean cover me with his upper body and shoulder. It gave me enough coverage that I glanced up, pushing my hair away from my face to see the barn doors we had locked with a wooden board slid home slowly push open, _snapping_ the board in two like it was easy.

A shadow moved across the floor and I forced myself up more as something seemed to shift inside me, and the warmth began to extend out into my arms and legs from the center of my body. The shadow grew slowly and I shielded my eyes as I stood straight, still behind Dean and Bobby, as a man began to take shape from the darkness and flashing sparks.

He was about Dean's height and seemed to be dressed in a navy business suit and tie, a tan trench coat that had me smiling for some reason thrown over it all. His medium brown hair seemed to match my own if I didn't have my dye-assisted color, and it had the spiky messy look to it. I vaguely felt the urge to touch it and my eyes widened as I shook my head.

I was _insane_.

Dean and Bobby fired off multiple shotgun and salt rounds into him as he passed over each spray-painted symbol on the barn floor and the urge to knock the guns from their hands filled me, making my hands clench as I attempted to stay still.

_"Seriously, what the hell?"_ I thought.

The man's eyes darted to me and I nearly gasped as I took them in. They were a striking blue that seemed endless and reminded me of the sky or that special place in the ocean where the water is bluer than you could ever imagine. My own greenish hazel ones stared back into his and a word instinctively fell to my lips, passing them without my permission.

"_Castiel_." I whispered softly.

He seemed to nod before turning back to my older brother, glancing at him with a blank yet smug face as he regarded him silently. Dean's eyes darted from him to me and back again worriedly, and I vaguely wondered if he'd heard me.

"Who are you?" Dean snarled, circling the man some and moving me further away from him at the same time.

He tilted his head some before speaking, everything perfectly pronounced and old sounding.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

His gravelly but smooth voice filled my ears and I felt the warmth inside me _grow_ in recognition, though of what I can't say. I stared at him unblinking, trying to grasp that faint thought that had been running through my mind for hours.

"Yeah, _thanks_ for that." Dean muttered, and I watched as the man nodded slightly, a small smile on his curious face.

Suddenly Dean lunged, driving the demon knife home right into the heart of the man in front of us. I shrieked and took an involuntary step forward, my arms raised to protect him for some reason. He held up his right hand to me instantly, stopping me in my tracks as Dean and Bobby stared at me like I'd been possessed.

With an almost smug smirk on his face, the man looked from Dean, down to the knife, and back again. He waited a moment, letting it sink in to the two other men in the room that the knife _wouldn't_ be doing any sort of damage any time soon. Then he reached up and grabbed onto the handle tightly, smoothly extracting it from himself before letting it clatter to the floor.

I breathed a small sigh of relief, earning a tiny smile from the man again.

_Weird_.

Dean looked to me then Bobby, his eyes wide and his expression shocked. Then Bobby lunged at the man with his iron bar and Dean pulled me to his side tightly out of the way. I felt the urge to struggle but held still, already knowing I was going to have _so_ much to explain once this ended. The man's hand instantly shot up as he kept eye-contact with Dean and me before grabbing onto the bar and turning, placing his fingers on Bobby's forehead.

And Bobby _dropped_.

Just like that, dead asleep.

"_Bobby_!" I shrieked, lunging forward, glaring at the man's bored expression resentfully.

His deep and rough voice filled my ears again as he spoke. "We need to talk Dean," he murmured, his eyes flickering to me and the unconscious Bobby on the floor. "Alon-"

"Don't you _even_ think about it!" I snarled, glaring. "You so much as _try_ and I will go absolutely batshitcrazy on you."

He stopped, staring at me in confusion. Dean and I waited as he seemed to ponder what I'd said before he finally nodded, stepping away from me and to the table that had Bobby's ritual books on it. Dean and I rushed forward, kneeling by Bobby's side as we looked him over, checking his pulse.

"Your friend is alive." The man murmured, almost sounding bored.

"You could've at least _caught_ him." I grumbled, shrugging my jacket off and slipping it under Bobby's head. I looked up and caught a faint smile on the man's face before it vanished, his features smoothing over into blankness again.

"Who _are_ you?" Dean asked, his voice low and threatening.

The man stared down at the book he was seemingly flipping through as the silence lengthened and I noticed his eyes flicker to me in their downcast position.

"Castiel." I murmured, noticing the warmth in my body grow yet again. A faint heat also seemed to center on the spot on my hip where the symbol had appeared.

He nodded slightly, still seemingly reading from the book on the table.

"Yeah, I figured that much. I mean _what_ are you?" Dean continued angrily, his eyes darting to mine.

Castiel turned and looked up from his book at Dean, regarding him silently before his stunning blue eyes flickered to me. He watched me for a moment, his head tilting to the side like he was…_waiting_.

Waiting for me to catch on to something.

My mind jump-started, jamming _everything_ that had happened since the night of the different, the _interrupted_, nightmare together right at the front. The bright white and warming light, the comforting dreams, and the high-pitched but musical tone of voice from the shadowy silhouette of a man. A man who was enormously tall, seemed to emit the light from _within_ himself, and had the looming shadows of something reaching out from his body; arching, curving, flowing, rustling…

Like _wings_.

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth as I stumbled up to a standing position and stepped closer to him instinctively. I faintly noticed his smile widen but Dean was up and on me, yanking me back away from Castiel roughly.

"Charlotte! _Stop_ it, what the hell do you think you're _doing_!" Dean shouted, pulling me back against his chest as I continued to stare at the man in front of me. "What are you _doing_ to her! What _ARE_ You?"

Castiel looked at me, tilting his head as he nodded slightly my way.

"He's an _angel_ Dean," I murmured in awe. "He's an Angel of the Lord."


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the new follows and favorites! Happy Reading!(:

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

Silence rang in my ears.

It was a huge change after the chaos that had reigned minutes before with the howling wind, gunfire, and general sound of Castiel's arrival.

Now it was completely silent aside from Dean's heavy breathing that was increasing in intensity by the second, expanding the noise in my ears as he kept me cemented to his chest, physically holding me back from the _angel_ that stood in front of us.

The angel.

"_Can't be real, not in this life."_ My brain shrilled inside itself.

Castiel seemed to tilt his head in my direction, the small smile still in place. The light returned within my mind, warming me down to my bones as the high-pitched musical tones of the voice chastised me.

"_You have always kept faith Charlotte, do not waver in it now."_

Dean's hand clenched on my shoulder where it was wrapped around my chest, anchoring me in place. I shook my head slightly, wincing at his death grip, when I looked up into his angry and fearful eyes. He looked almost accusing as he stared at me, like I had known all along or something. It dimly registered that it looked that way…that it _was_ that way actually. But he turned from me and addressed Castiel instead.

"Get the hell out of here." He growled, pulling me back with him a few feet as Castiel moved forward toward us. "There's _no_ such thing."

Castiel followed before coming to a stop in front of us, dead center in the middle of the room. My eyes darted over him, taking him in. He didn't look miraculous by any means, just…a normal guy. Cute, sexy even with his messy hair and scruff and that deep, soothing tone of voice. But not like I had expected an angel to look by any means.

"This is your problem Dean." He fixed my brother with a clear-eyed stare. "You have no…_faith_."

Castiel's eyes darted to mine on the last word and I sucked in a breath, what would've been a gasp if Dean hadn't been nearly crushing my body. At his uttered word of my middle name, a high heat rose from the symbol branded to my hip, making my eyes dart down in fear that you could see it through my clothing or that it was burning through the fabric. It wasn't though, it just felt warmed like a furnace even though when I settled my free hand upon it, it was cool to the touch. The angel's eyes pierced mine when I looked back up.

He had noticed.

Suddenly the room was filled with bright light like that of my dreams and I gasped as a thunderous sound echoed through the old barn, making the wooden walls shake where they stood. My gaze whipped back to Castiel after taking in Dean's shocked expression and I stilled as I watched the shadow of the massive form I'd seen in my dreams rising from the man's body.

His _wings_.

He was unfurling his wings in the shadows to convince my non-believing big brother of his origin. They were awe-inspiring, filling up the walls and floor of the barn easily as they stretched out, arching above us all the way to the ceiling, and these weren't even all that real.

More like a snapshot if what I'd seen in my dreams was correct.

The thunder and light faded, leaving Castiel standing in front of us, staring directly at Dean. I glanced up at him and saw him nodding, finally taking in what was undeniable as it stood before us. I knew it wasn't something that was easy for Dean to comprehend, we'd had the go around about God, Heaven and Angels multiple times and with all the bad he'd seen, he never allowed the possibility of the good to ring true in his mind.

Me though…I had hope.

I _needed_ to believe that it was true, because without it the world was just too dark to handle.

"Some angel _you_ are." Dean's angry voice filled my ears, calling me out of my random musings. "You burned out that poor woman's _eyes_. Charlotte was lucky to-

"_Hey_ he-" I tried to cut over Dean's ranting but he silenced me with a hand plastered over my mouth. I struggled against him, trying to pry myself from his grip, but it was useless so I finally relaxed into him knowing I wasn't going anywhere.

Castiel gazed at me with an odd expression before shaking his head and looking down in shame.

"I warned her not to spy on my true form." He spoke adamantly. "It can be…_overwhelming_ to humans. And so can my real voice, but you already knew that."

Dean stiffened, looking at him incredulously. "You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you _talking_?"

Castiel nodded, seeming to avoid looking at me.

_"Odd, he didn't seem to have an issue before."_ I thought to myself, missing his stiffening spine.

"Buddy next time, lower the volume." Dean said almost sarcastically.

I snickered behind his hand, unable to hold in the noise even as I tried. It was just too funny. We were standing in a spray painted barn with every symbol and trap I'd ever seen scrawled across it, in front of a freaking _angel_, and Dean was telling him to lower his voice when he spoke? Both men's eyes swung to me and I shrugged innocently pulling at Dean's hand on my mouth. Reluctantly, he released me with a small smile though he still kept me close by.

Castiel looked thoughtful before responding. "That was my mistake. Certain people…_special_ people," He murmured, his eyes swinging toward me as he finished. "Can perceive my true visage."

Dean turned to me with wide eyes at the angel's insinuating eye-contact but I kept my gaze averted from him and on Castiel, watching as his eyes swung back to look at Dean again.

"I thought you would be one of them." He murmured, confused in a way. "I was wrong."

A few beats of silence passed and I began to fill out of place as Dean and Castiel just stared at each other. Biting down on my lip, I moved away from Dean slowly so that I could resume my place on the table I'd previously perched on but Dean held me still quickly. I looked up into his face and got the feeling he was still silently worried about something, I just wasn't sure what.

"And what _visage_ are you in now huh?" He said, eyeing the angel with sarcasm in his tone. "Holy tax accountant?"

"This?" Castiel murmured, glancing down at his body. "This is a...vessel."

My eyes widened a little and he seemed to flinch but continued to stare at Dean.

"You're _possessing_ some poor bastard?" Dean snarled, narrowing his eyes as his gaze swung to me in a 'See? I Told You This Was A Load Of Crap' expression.

"He's a devout man." Castiel actually smiled, causing my breath to hitch. "He actually prayed for this."

I stared at the man who was technically Castiel but yet wasn't at the same time. The bright smile that graced his lips actually _looked_ angelic, and I could feel the warmth on my hip increase as that same magnetic pull from my dreams returned, causing me to take a slight step forward. I gritted my teeth though and stopped, fighting against whatever inner pull seemed to draw me to the man.

"Look pal, I'm not buying what your selling." Dean muttered. "So who are you _really_?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed in confusion as he tilted his head. "I told you."

"Right." Dean snipped, tilting his head as well. "And _why_ would an angel, rescue _me_ from hell?"

Castiel's expression intensified as he left his position, stepping in close to Dean and in consequence, me. I had been stationed partially in front of Dean since I had taken my few steps forward and now I was sandwiched between the two, less than a foot separating me from the angel. His eyes darted down, searching for mine before he met them and looked up again into my brother's almost identical gaze.

"Good things _do_ happen Dean." He murmured, his eyes seemingly looking for something in my brother's.

"Not in my experience." Dean bit out through gritted teeth, his body stiff with determination to not step back from the angel in front of us.

I didn't understand why he was so on edge, why he couldn't seem to feel the same warmth and ease radiating from the angel before us. I couldn't possibly feel nervous or afraid if I tried, it was like those feelings and emotions were nonexistent with him standing so closely. Was it a trick?

_"No Charlotte."_ The voice once again echoed through my mind, causing me to glance up quickly into the angel's gaze.

Castiel squinted, shaking his head as he looked above me into Dean's eyes.

"What's the matter?" He questioned quietly. But then his eyes widened with recognition as he tilted his head further and his voice stroked over my skin. "You don't think you _deserve_ to be saved."

I gasped quietly, looking back toward my brother but unable to meet his eyes from my cramped position between the two. I heard a slight gust of air as he let out a breath, nodding slightly almost in agreement.

"Why'd you do it?" Dean uttered, low in his throat.

My vision flickered.

Suddenly I was no longer able to focus and I tuned out of their conversation.

Like the static of a channel that wasn't being well received in a TV, my vision flickered back and forth between what was now turning into the almost concerned gaze of Castiel and of a darkness tinged with red. _Pain_, that was what was filling me up inside, replacing the warmth. Pain, screaming, crying…_blood_. I cried out, grasping for something to hold onto unseeing. I couldn't hear anything from the barn I'd been standing in before, only the screaming cries of voices belonging to people I couldn't seem to see. A slashing pain sliced its way across my skin and I looked down to see an open slice reaching from my stomach to my chest, the blood seeping out as an evil laugh cackled in the background.

"_Charlotte!" _

I squeezed my eyes shut on the image of my open body and blood, recognizing the bright and melodious tone immediately as I attempted to grab onto it. Soft cries filtered in through my hearing and I dimly realized they were my own as cool but warm hands grasped on to my elbow, another settling on my cheek as the owner tried to force my eyes open.

But I didn't _want_ to see anymore, didn't _want_ to witness my organs slip from my body.

"_Charlotte open your eyes!"_ The voice pushed in intensity, sending something almost like a vibration through my mind, jarring me where I stood so that my eyes cracked open.

To see Castiel.

He stood in front of me, his hand still supporting my weight as I gasped and blinked, my eyes darting around my surroundings, recognizing the barn that was full of spray painted signs, the table of guns, the angel before me and my brother behind me. I stared into the striking blue gaze of the angel, catching the confused expressions that filtered through his eyes before he let me be wrenched away from him by Dean.

"What did you _do_ to her! What _are_ you doing to her? She's been weird since you got here!" Dean accused, his voice nearly a snarl of anger.

"Thanks big bro." I muttered tiredly. "Real self-confidence booster you are."

I sighed and let him lead me over to the table again, not even fighting as he insisted on helping me up onto it even though I was sure I could handle the three-foot climb, I wasn't _completely_ useless. He checked me over, ignoring Castiel as he slowly circled closer, watching me with his steady and curious gaze all the while. Slowly the warmth seeped back into me, chasing away the last remnants of pain and fear that had doused me like a bucket of ice-cold water.

"I need to speak with your sister," I winced when I realized where he was going with his words. "Alone."

* * *

Dean had stiffened immediately, attempted to swing around and keep the angel from me, but in the end he only made himself vulnerable to the angel's plan. Just as he had with Bobby, Castiel placed his fingers on Dean's forehead without hesitation, completely ignoring Dean's shouted warnings when he had abided by mine.

Interesting fact.

The shocked and pissed of expression on Dean's face quickly faded to be replaced with one of something like peacefulness as Castiel guided him to the floor instead of letting him drop like dead weight to the ground as he had with Bobby. He straightened and smoothed his coat, his hands passing down the front of it after shaking it out some before he turned his electric gaze on me.

"What did you see?" He murmured, his voice low yet demanding at the same time.

I stared at him blankly, refusing to acknowledge his question. I was going crazy, that much I had already assumed. It was like karma's sick version of justice, lose your family, get it back, lose your mind. Who made up these rules anyway?

"Charlotte, what did you-" He started again, stepping closer.

"I didn't see _anything_." I replied hastily, wanting him to stay back.

For some reason, having him so close made me feel different, strange. Like I'd tell him anything he wanted me to and not mind doing so. The warmth on my hip distracted me and I glanced down at it worriedly, another sign that I was _totally_ losing it.

"You're lying." His deep voice smoothed over my skin, leaving me with a shiver.

"I'm not-" I started.

"You _are_." He nodded stopping right in front of my legs.

Apparently angel's don't have a concept of personal space, that or he didn't read the guidebook on human behavior.

"What is here?" He asked quietly, his long finger stretching out to point to my hip.

I stiffened noticeably, sitting straighter.

I _didn't_ know this man…angel…whatever. We'd only met like twenty minutes ago and previously in the day he'd apparently burned out my friends eyes, could've burned out mine if I hadn't been able to break away. He'd swooped in here, told Dean he was an angel who had pulled him from Hell, and put my brother and father-figure to sleep before coming toward me to begin asking a bunch of personal questions.

_"You need to trust me Charlotte."_

I gasped, my eyes darting up toward Castiel as the high-pitched tone that reminded me of music and melody filled my ears, not only mentally this time but _actually_ filled the barn and my hearing.

The voice…the voice was _his_.

"_You_?" I asked, my eyes wide. "You're the voice in my dreams? The voice belongs to you?"

Castiel tilted his head as he gazed at me, something along the lines of humor and confusion crossing his features as he did. He watched me closely, almost warily, as he nodded slightly. It was the only movement he made. Something inside me seemed to solidify, my decision to trust him being made up for me almost involuntarily though logically I couldn't explain why. For some reason, completely unknown to me, I knew without a single doubt that it was _right_ to trust him.

"You had already confirmed this earlier, when you told your brother what I am." He murmured, watching me.

I sucked in a breath, staring. "Well, _yeah_ but… I didn't know the _voice_ was yours too."

Castiel nodded in affirmation.

"How…how can I _hear_ you and not bleed from the ears like Dean?" I murmured, confused.

"I told you both, certain people, special people-" He started.

"Can see your true visage, right." I finished.

We stared at each other in silence as he waited patiently for me to trust him with the answers to his questions. Vaguely I got the feeling that he wouldn't be leaving me alone until I did so. I sighed heavily and leaned back some, rolling my shirt bottom up and pulling the waistline of my jeans down at the same time to expose the symbol branded into my skin earlier in the afternoon.

"This." I murmured, watching him. "_This_ is what's here. It happened earlier, when Pam tried to see you I think, all I know is it wasn't there before and it _is_ there now."

Castiel's eyes widened considerably when they fell on the outline of it, the largest display of emotion I'd seen on him yet, as he darted closer to me still. My legs knocked apart as he slide between them to get a closer look at the odd symbol that now resided on my hip and bent down until he was eye-level with it. I was about to tell him to _back it up_ but then I felt the strange sensation of his warm but cool fingers stroking the lines in my skin, tracing the symbol as a low sound escaped from him and my breath left me. His fingers moved fluidly, tracing the curving diagonal line and the three short lines that sprouted off of it, one on the left side and two on the right.

"Castiel what is-" I started.

A searing pain cut me off and I gasped, my hand instinctively gripping his shoulder tightly as the sign seemed to burn more than it had since I had discovered it. The angel was staring at it, completely transfixed and unaware of the death grip I had on him while my nails sunk into the fabric of his coat as he murmured something again. I sucked in a breath worriedly when a bright light shone into his face originating from…

The _symbol_.

"What the _hell_!" I shrieked, moving to scramble back.

But Castiel grabbed onto my hip and held me steady in his firm grip, continuing on with his murmur before he placed his hand fully over the symbol and pushed down on my skin...hard.

Just like that, the pain was gone.

He released me slowly, taking only a single step back out of my personal bubble as I stared at him in confusion before glancing down to look at my hip. It was _completely_ healed now, the pink and irritated lines vanished into thin air and what reminded me of a white ink tattoo was left in its place.

"What _is_ this? What were you saying? What did you _do_?" I panted, rattling off questions continuously.

He looked at the symbol, silent, until I slowly let my shirt fall back into place. As if I had broken him out of his own thoughts, his head slowly lifted to look at me, confusion now clear in his eyes.

"I do not know. It was something I felt the need to do." He murmured, sounding lost. "I know the language I spoke and that which remains on your body, but I do not know why or how I-"

"What do you mean you _don't_ know why or how! You're an _angel_ for goodness sakes!" I screeched, looking back at my hip again.

"I do not know." Castiel replied. "But I _will_ find out."

The sound of fluttering, rustling of feathers almost, filled my ears and I glanced up again from my hip to ask Castiel what it was because I was halfway worried something else had showed up and both Bobby and Dean were out for the count on the ground.

But he was gone.


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Note: **Hello to you all! I want to thank you guys so much for bearing with me during this awful time. The loss makes it hard to keep on track with any sort of schedule, but I finally decided I needed to get back into some sort of routine. That means that I'm trying to write again. I'm doing it slowly at first, baby steps are the way to go I assume. I also want to thank you all for your support and prayers that you've left in reviews or in my inbox, I can't tell you how much it means to know others are sending well-wishes even though we don't know each other!

All this being said, I still can't promise routine or constant updates. Some days are better than others for the writing and editing process. I CAN promise though, that as soon as I get a chapter written and edited I will not hesitate to post it for your reading pleasure. I hope you all understand and continue to work with me, don't give up on Charlotte and Castiel. (Castilotte? Help with a shipping name lol!)

Love you all and happy reading!

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

It had been a few days since Castiel had made his appearance in the barn, told Dean he'd rescued him from Hell and that God apparently had work for him to do (missed that part of the conversation thanks to my freaky waking-dreamlike trance thing), knocked both my brother and Bobby out, and sealed the brand on my hip.

So, a busy weekend all in all.

Now all four of us were back at Bobby's, constantly getting engaged in long debates over rather or not Castiel was what he had _said_ he was, rather or not there was a God, rather or not we were in deep shit, and rather or not Dean's pie addiction would ever fade.

My current thought process was pretty much mostly probable on the first three counts and no way (even in _Hell_) on the last.

I had kept what Castiel and I had talked about when we were together alone to myself for the most part, Dean was the only one who had known the angel had wanted to talk to me by himself and I'd made him promise to keep it that way. He wasn't happy about not getting the whole truth, _or_ keeping the secret from Sam and Bobby, but I once again reminded him that I knew he was keeping something from us too and I hadn't asked about it.

_Yet_.

I sighed as I stepped out of the hot shower, grateful for it instead of the multiple unfamiliar ones I had utilized through the years of accompanying Dean on hunting trips. The sound of my brothers laughing and smacking each other around in their usual mid-morning brawl over breakfast brought a smile to my face as I toweled my hair dry before wrapping myself tightly in a big fluffy one, silently thanking God I'd had the time to go out and buy more girl appropriate things when I moved in to Bobby's, they'd been sorely missed. I thought I heard a faint rustling sound over the music of my iPod I usually played when I took bathes and froze momentarily, but continued on with my morning routine after hearing nothing follow it.

"Charlotte."

I sucked in a sharp gasp and dropped the lotion bottle with a reverberating thud on the bathroom tile, choking on my own air as his deep and gravely tone filled the small space of the bathroom, stroking over my skin lightly and prompting that now familiar warmth to grow on my hip.

"_Holy_- oh my…don't just sneak up on me like that!" I screeched, smacking at Castiel's arm before remembering my towel. I snatched at it tightly to keep it firmly in place.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to-" He started, his brow pulled down in confusion.

Heavy thudding on the stairs had me jumping toward him, closing the small amount of space between us as I slapped a hand over his mouth to cease his apologetic speech, still holding tightly to the towel wrapped around my body. My quick movements had him cornered against the door, our chests touching some, while I bit my lip in concentration.

"Char? Are you okay?" Sam's questioning voice filtered through the heavy wood of the bathroom door and I glared at the angel in my grasp.

He seemed almost sheepish.

"Fine, I'm just fine Sammy. Just…tripped over the hamper and yelled at it. No big deal." I lied quickly…and kind of lamely.

Silence followed my falsehood before he spoke again, confused. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Right about then the warmth that had centered on my hip through the symbol burst out from it, streaking through my body quickly and prompting a small gasp to tumble from my lips as my breath came rapidly. I actually had to bite back a moan as the heat coursed through my body, warming every part of it to my core in such a pleasant way it was nearly unbearable. Castiel's eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at me and an unexplainable blush crept over my skin as I cleared my throat, looking away from him while I attempted to chase Sam off.

"No, I'm totally fine. Now let me finish Sammy. And _don't_ steal my breakfast!" I whined, just as I normally would.

His gentle laughter filled the hallway as he retreated down the stairs and back to the kitchen, leaving me and the angel in my bathroom with my hand over his mouth and my body much too close to his in its nearly naked state…alone.

I dropped my hand, inching back away from him as far as possible. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"I wanted to check on you." He answered, eyeing me carefully.

I glanced up at him in confusion. "Check on _me_? Why?"

Already I knew why.

My dreams the last few days had gotten progressively worse, confined to the deep and dark depths of what I'd guess was my imagination's version of Hell where I was sliced, diced, and forced to listen to other people screaming all night long. Until the white light filled the darkness and banished it from my mind, leaving me in a light and almost fluffy sleep for the rest of the night.

"Your dreams are getting worse." Castiel murmured, stepping closer to me.

I fidgeted and cleared my throat, looking everywhere but him. "I'm…aware."

He nodded slightly, his eyes still clouded in some unreadable emotion as they darted down to where the symbol was located on my body. "And the marking?"

I swallowed quietly. "Still there, no change."

He stared at me patiently as I completely ignored whatever had just occurred with the heated pleasure running through my body and I glared right back at him, annoyed. What so he couldn't take my word for it that the damn thing was _exactly_ how it'd been nights before? I huffed out a sigh with a roll of my eyes.

"Fine if you want to _see_ it, you'll have to turn around while I change." I grumbled.

His confused eyes looked back at me. "Why?"

"Uh, because you poofed in on me while I'm dressed in a _towel_," I supplied, watching him.

He still didn't get it.

"Castiel, I'm _naked_ underneath here. I need to change unless you want a full show."

I smirked as a faint reddening colored his cheeks, further confusing him I think, but he turned and faced the corner of the bathroom while I quickly slipped into a pair of shorts and rolled a shirt over my frame. I tapped him gently on the shoulder, letting him know it was safe to turn back toward me again, as I rolled the shirt up some to reveal the brand.

"Did you find out what it is?" I asked, glancing down at the symbol myself while he stepped closer.

He made a low sound in his throat that sounded like a 'no' as he came to a stop a few inches from me and reached out his long, cool fingers almost unthinkingly, like he was drawn to the marking there. My breathing increased rapidly as he stroked them along the lines of the symbol, tracing it repeatedly. As he did, the low heat inside me built back up into the heated pleasure I'd felt minutes before until it flowed throughout my body yet again, seeming to center wherever my skin was closest to his, and a low moan escaped my lips unintentionally. Castiel's eyes immediately darted up to mine from where he'd been watching his fingers tracing my skin, peering into my face as my eyes widened and I sucked in a breath, stepping back out of his grasp and coming to a stop against the bathroom wall.

"So, did you?" I asked again, clearing my throat.

He gazed at me awhile longer before shaking his head. "As I said before, I know the language of the symbol on your skin, but I do not know what it's supposed to mean as it marks you."

I nodded, fighting against the blush at my insane reaction to him as I ran my hand through my hair. "What language is it?"

His eyes seemed to narrow slightly as he looked at me, like he didn't know rather or not he could trust me with whatever information he had about the brand marking my skin.

"Are you _seriously_ not going to tell me?" I asked, my eyes narrowing in return.

"Charlotte, that is not what I-" He started.

I heaved a sigh and rubbed my forehead in annoyance that was building over the pleasure and dampening it. I really couldn't believe it, after all the 'Charlotte you need to trust me' bullshit and now he wasn't even going to reciprocate with the same thing. I hadn't told anyone about anything we'd discussed and didn't plan to, even without him asking it of me, and here he was with information about my freaky new addition to my skin and he had no intention of telling me.

"You are mad. I'm sorry." He murmured softly, stepping up behind me, and I thought he was going to place his hands on my hips.

"Yeah well,-" I started in reply, but he cut me off quickly in a hurried tone.

"I came here to warn you, you and your brothers _must_ be careful in the coming days. If you need me, call to me. I'll come if I can." He murmured urgently near my ear.

I turned to ask him what in the hell he was talking about but before I could, what seemed like the faint touch of lips against my ear made my nerves sing in delight and the soft sound of a flutter filled the bathroom.

When I looked backwards…he was gone.

* * *

"It's not like she's going to miss a single pancake Sammy. She won't even notice that it's gone probably."

The sound of my brother's voice coming out around his mouthful of breakfast food floated toward me as I reached the bottom step on the stairs off of the kitchen and I rounded the corner, sneaking up behind his back. I latched my soft but firm grip onto his shoulders and grinned when he jumped.

"Dean Winchester, if you so much as _touch_ my pancake I _swear_ with our new-found God as my witness, I will kick your ass." I whisper-hissed into his ear.

"Whatever." He grumbled but shoved me good-naturedly.

Grinning, I easily sank into my chair beside Dean. I had adopted the spot by his right side a long time ago and the chair usually stayed open unless someone who didn't understand that hierarchy my brothers, Bobby and I had established sat there. I had missed sitting by his side in this rickety old kitchen so intensely after his death that I hadn't really sat at the wooden table in months.

"Well then tell me what else it could've been?" Sam asked, returning back to the conversation he and Dean had been having before I showed up.

Dean looked at me out of the corner of his eye before replying. "Look, all I know is I was _not_ groped by an angel."

I arched a brow in a sarcastic expression. "Groped Dean? Really?"

"Got a better term?" Dean shot back.

"Not really, but Castiel doesn't seem like the groping type. Not on other _guys_ at least." I grinned in a smug expression before taking a bite out of my breakfast.

Dean looked at me sharply and a blush crept across my skin. His mouth dropped open and I could feel him getting ready to shoot a ton of questions at me repeatedly and without mercy but Sam, whose nose had been buried in a book and had missed the interaction Dean and I shared over my quip about Castiel's preferences, cut him off.

"_Why_ do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?" Sam argued.

Dean's eyes darted from mine to Sam's, leaving me in peace to eat.

"Maybe he's a demon." He said stubbornly. "Demons lie."

I huffed sarcastically. "A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps from all over the world? Not to even mention Ruby's knife?"

Both of my brothers stared at me in amused amazement that I'd been paying such close attention even as I ate, and Bobby chuckled quietly from the across the kitchen and in the study. I shrugged innocently.

"Dean," Sam started, shaking his head. "_Lilith_ is even scared of that thing!"

"Evil _bitch_." I muttered darkly.

Dean smiled a little and squeezed my knee under the table in silent thanks for my demon hatred before standing and clearing away his plate. My brow arched in surprise, usually I was the one to clean up after his messy self in the kitchen. He shrugged and leaned back against the counter in front of the sink before speaking again.

"Don't you think that if angels were real, _some_ hunter somewhere would've seen one at _some_ point…" He said emphatically. "Ever?!"

I shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to acknowledge that he did kind of have a point. It was strange that all of the sudden one would show up just in time to pull Dean from Hell and grace us, the Winchesters of all people, with its presence. I didn't even _want_ to get into the fact that I apparently had been marked by one or something that was connected to one.

"Yeah Dean. _You_ just did." Sam replied with a laughing smirk.

Silence filled the kitchen as I ate slowly, my eyes drifting back and forth between my big and little brother as they stared off at each other, both too stubborn to listen to what the other was saying. Sammy looked smug and all-knowing; Dean was using his best death glare, and me? I was eating pancakes.

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here okay?!" Dean shouted. "Work with me!"

I sighed quietly.

"Dean, we _have_ a theory." Sam muttered.

His glare whipped to me unexplainably as he leaned forward and came to hover over me. "Yeah, one with a little _less_ fairy dust on it, please."

"I hardly think fairies have anything to do with this." I quipped with a roll of my eyes.

Sam sighed heavily before continuing, his voice raising a level with his frustration over Dean's unwilling behavior to accept Castiel for what he had said that he was.

"Okay look, I'm not saying we know for _sure_." Sam shouted. "I'm just saying that I think we-"

Dean raised his hand, officially cutting him off. "Okay, okay look. That's the point. We don't know for sure so I'm _not_ going to believe that this thing is a freaking angel of the Lord because _it_ says so!"

I sighed deeply, yet again, and climbed to my feet. Padding over to the sink, I cleaned my dishes slowly, my brows knitting in concentration at the deep-rooted need to…_what_? Defend Castiel against my brother's outraged musings? Where was this even coming from, I _barely_ knew the guy. Well, not guy…celestial being?

"You're losing your mind Charlotte." I muttered to myself, shaking my head.

I ignored the continued argument over religion and Castiel's true nature until I couldn't any longer without opening my mouth and making Dean think I was even more crazy than he already did before I walked from the kitchen and sat on the edge of Bobby's desk. My eyes roamed over the huge stacks of parchment and books, all full of research and information over different supernatural creatures we had hunted or come in contact with through the years, even before it was my brothers and I doing the hunting. Bobby had been looking for anything he could that might give further insight into Castiel's appearance or the angel himself…the non-burn your eyes out way.

"I've got stacks of lore here- biblical, pre-biblical; some of it's in damn cuneiform." Bobby muttered as the boys followed me and came to stand in front of us on the other side of the desk.

"That's _seriously_ old." I murmured distractedly, glancing at the yellowed pages of a book.

"It all says an angel can snatch a soul..." Bobby started.

"From the pit." I finished, my hand involuntarily seeking out and pressing against my new angelic tattoo on my hip as I gazed at the drawings in the book of what looked like your typical angel drawing grabbing a person from the red and fire-filled pit of Hell.

Dean's eyes flitted to me, though I was too preoccupied to notice, before he muttered his question. "What else?"

I glanced up to catch Bobby's confused expression. "What else, what?"

"What _else_ could do it?" Dean asked, his hand also involuntarily seeking out his own angelic tattoo- Castiel's reddened hand print on his shoulder.

"_Airlift_ your ass out of the hotbox?" Bobby asked incredulously. "As far as I can tell, nothing."

"Come on Dean." I muttered, glancing up at my older brother. "Is it really so hard to believe he _is_ what he says he is?"

Dean's eyes narrowed on me as he zeroed in his gaze. "What's _with_ you and him Charlotte?"

My eyes widened at his accusation and a blush unwillingly crept across my skin again, my embarrassment over Dean calling me out in front of Bobby and Sam only increasing the heat. I glared at my brother across from me, thoroughly pissed that he'd bring this up in front of them after we'd agreed not to make a big deal in front of anyone else except the other.

"I _don't_ know what you're talking about." I muttered darkly, moving from my perch on Bobby's desk to stand with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Bullshit. You've been strange since I got back, since _he_ started showing up." Dean accused.

"Did you ever think I was in shock over my four-month _dead_ brother popping back out of Hell?" I shouted back, outraged.

"This has nothing to do with me! You were fine when I first showed up here!" Dean shouted, advancing toward me as I held my ground.

Sam and Bobby watched our unfolding argument, their eyes darting back and forth between us as Bobby scooted in his chair out of the way and Sam did the same with his standing position. I huffed angrily and shook my head, ignoring Dean's comment. It had been silent a few moments, neither Sam nor Bobby were brave enough to say a word to either of us, before Dean spoke again. What he said next had my heart stuttering painfully in my chest and my eyes going wide in astonishment, unable to believe he had picked up on something I thought I'd hidden so well. But Dean and I had always been close, even before the hunting, so it really shouldn't have been a surprise.

Dean stepped toward me, stopping only about a foot from the front of my body before his low voice, laced with concern, filled the silent room.

"_What_ is on your hip Charlotte?"


	6. Chapter Six

**Author's Note:** New chapter I've been working on throughout the day! Hope you guys enjoy it, I'm liking playing around with adding in Charlotte to the mix of what's going on. I can't wait until things get heated and we bring Ruby and other canon characters to the mix. Thank you tons for all new reviews, views, follows and favorites- you guys are great!

All this being said, I still can't promise routine or constant updates. Some days are better than others for the writing and editing process. I CAN promise though, that as soon as I get a chapter written and edited I will not hesitate to post it for your reading pleasure. I hope you all understand and continue to work with me, don't give up on Charlotte and Castiel.

Go team Castilotte!

Love you all and happy reading!

Pairing: CastielxOFC- Charlotte Faith Winchester

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

"_Nothing_." I replied venomously.

The venom in my voice was so heavy, so intense that I could almost _hear_ it drip from the single word I hissed out. It was surprising to us all, especially me. Dean and I might as well be twins, plenty of people thought we were. We acted as a duo for the most part, even when I disagreed. The shock registered on his face as well as my own, but I watched as it turned to determination.

My lashing out had only hardened his resolve.

"I call bullshit, _again_. What's on your hip Charlotte?" He hissed back, slowly circling me.

My eyes tracked him as I angled my body to follow his movements and realization dawned on me…Dean was hunting me.

"It's nothing Dean. Now would you just _stop_ this and-" I bit out, narrowing my eyes.

He lunged.

I shrieked and jumped back, attempting to scramble over Bobby's desk littered with books and research. It was my best option, and it wasn't even a really good one. Shouting came from the corner where Bobby and Sam had inched away from us, previously silent spectators to our now physical fight. Books and papers went flying in the air, landing on the hardwood floor with a solid thud or flutter as I moved to crawl over the top, angling my body (_and_ hip) away from Dean as far as possible.

It didn't work.

Dean's warm hands curled around my hip and leg, yanking me back down from my scrambling position before he flipped me around on my back and pushed me to the desk. I winced as the edge cut into the small of my back, sure that there would be a bruise as a result. Dean would hate himself for it later and I'd hate myself for provoking him to such action, but we were both hiding things neither of us wanted to confront. Our own proverbial demons.

Or angels, rather.

I scratched and scrabbled at his hands as they shot out to yank my shirt up over my stomach, my last-ditch effort to hide the burned brand or tattoo that now marked my skin there. It was no use, Dean was determined, angry, and confused. When he finally managed to lift my shirt high enough and get a good look at the marking, air whistled through his teeth as he sucked in a breath and stumbled back, his eyes wide and fearful. I could hear duplicate reactions from the two other men in the room and shut my eyes, leaning back on Bobby's desk with a soft thud.

For the second time in just a few short days, deathly silence filled the room.

I cracked open an eye in an attempt to gauge my brothers' and Bobby's expressions after the silence had lengthened to a span of long, drawn out minutes. Shock, confusion, anger, the list goes on and on. They were pissed that I hadn't mentioned it, confused and worried about what it was, fearful for what it meant and possibly of me (though I hated to think that was true).

"What the hell…_is_ that." Dean bit out, his deep voice breaking some as he heaved in a breath.

I sighed deeply and sat up on the desk, running a nervous hand through my hair.

"I don't know Dean." I whispered.

"_CHARLOTTE_!" He yelled, clearly infuriated.

"I'm _serious_!" I cried out, my voice breaking as I bit down on my lip.

And I was.

Castiel knew something about it but, for whatever reason, didn't trust me with the explanation he had. I had kept the secret from my brothers for days and it'd been killing me. Dean was everything to me, my bestfriend and protector since even _before_ I had come to hunt with him after all the hell I'd been through with Jason. It had been driving me crazy to not tell him, especially since I'd just gotten him back. But this was strange, huge…and he'd been hiding stuff from me too.

I brushed at my eyes and took a deep breath, dispelling of any sniffles lurking there.

"I really don't know." I explained, my voice growing stronger by the minute. "It's connected to Castiel, at least we _think_ so, and-"

"Excuse me, _we_?" Dean muttered incredulously, turning to Sam and Bobby. "Did she just say _we_?"

Sam glared at him before turning back to me after he spoke. "Shut it Dean, let her talk."

Dean grumbled and huffed, plopping down heavily on the old couch across from the desk as Sam did the same. Bobby swiveled back around and I eased myself from the desk, rubbing at the line that I was sure now marred the small of my back where Dean had shoved me against it. I sat between my brothers gingerly, worried Dean was going to throw me off the thing in his anger.

"It happened during the séance with Pam I think," I murmured, beginning the explanation. "I _know_ it wasn't there before that. I didn't even notice when it happened, everything was so crazy…"

I trailed off as the four of us reflected in our memories over the harsh reality of Pam's eyes being literally burned out of her skull when she caught a glimpse of Castiel during our spying session. Castiel had warned her to turn back and not look at him, much as he did me I soon realized afterwards, but Pam didn't break easy.

The price was her sight.

"I noticed it at the diner, when we ran into those demons. There was a sharp burning pain and when I lifted my shirt, it was there. It wasn't bloody or anything, just looked like a new brand on my skin, irritated and pink." I kept going quietly.

Sam cut in then, asking one of his many questions to come. "Then how does it look weeks old?"

I bit down on my lip and fidgeted with my hands, wringing them in my lap. "Castiel sort of sealed it and-"

_"WHAT?!"_ Dean yelled.

"Unintentionally." I finished, glaring at him for his interruption.

Well, that wasn't the _complete_ truth. Castiel had intentionally grabbed me, pressed his hand over my skin and murmured words I couldn't understand. But he'd said he felt some sort of strange need to, and that led me to believe that he couldn't have fought it even if he had tried.

For _some_ reason I had an unwavering faith in the angel that I couldn't explain.

"It freaked _him_ out just as much as it did _me_." I finished, sighing.

Silence filled the room as all three men in my life looked back and forth between each other before gazing at me again.

"So…" Sam started, clearing his throat. "What does this mean?"

I shrugged honestly, shaking my head. "I don't know. Castiel is trying to find out but he hasn't been able to get anything on it yet and I'd appreciate it if we kept the fact that you three know about it to ourselves. I don't want him to not trust me with information because someone over here physically _forced_ me to tell you."

I growled out the last few words, glaring at my older brother. He had the decency to look a little embarrassed about his tactics but it was short-lived. His face screwed up again in anger and uncertainty not too long after, replacing the embarrassment.

"No one leaves you alone. You can't see _him_ by yourself-" He started, his commanding voice a lot like Dad's, taking over.

"Dean that's just ridiculous!" I hissed, outraged.

"We can't _TRUST_ you around him!" Dean shouted above me.

I sucked in a gasp of air, betrayal and hurt mixing with a fierce anger that left me staring at my green-eyed brother and breathing heavily. Dean stared back at me with equally wide eyes matching mine, but he didn't retract his statement, didn't apologize for the words that wounded me deeper than I had ever experienced.

I stood from the couch fluidly, ignoring the _'Charley wait'_ from Sam as I headed toward the arch between Bobby's kitchen and study, intent on leaving in a huff.

What? I'm _still_ a girl.

"You know Dean," I hissed, turning on my heel as I snatched my keys from the counter. "Sam's got _demon_ blood inside him, and you could forgive him that. What makes _me_ so different?"

Dean looked down, refusing to meet my eyes as his jaw twitched through its clenching. I nodded stiffly and turned again, hurrying through the backdoor in the kitchen.

The slam of the old wooden door echoed outside and in.

* * *

I drove.

That's what I typically do when I'm angry; I drive. I'm a lot like Dean and my father that way, always driving when I find myself in a situation I can't quite handle. Technically it's running, I know, but it's like this instinctual thing that I find myself _needing_ to do and I can't keep from it.

It keeps me from saying something stupid, so that's good I suppose.

The rumble and groan of the mustang's engine always settles my nerves and today is no exception despite the severity of Dean's words. I'm a sucker for cars, just like my brother and father, though I picked a newer model while in school. Dean always makes fun of me for it, but I just brush it off, knowing he's proud that his sister actually gives a crap about cars is good enough for him.

"_Shit_!" I hissed out, clenching my jaw and hitting the steering wheel.

I wanted to stay angry at him not smile when I thought about him, so I pushed my foot down heavily on the pedal, ignoring the inner-warning bells going off inside my mind because I know the road is slick, it rained not too long ago, and this is a stupid move on my part. But right now, I just didn't care.

My _brother_ didn't trust me.

The tears hit unexpectedly and without pause, running down my cheeks in hot, long trails. I worked to suck in air and still watch where I was going, gripping onto the wheel tightly to keep control of the mighty piece of machinery I sat in.

"Charlotte."

I gasped in a breath of air but somehow I wasn't surprised that his gravelly voice filled the car, wrapping me in its roughness that soothed me almost instantaneously. I didn't look toward him, kept my eyes on the road that was speeding by much too quickly as I continued to cry without worrying about the impression it might leave on him.

"Charlotte you _must_ slow down." His voice was laced with worry and fatigue, almost haggard.

It was the tone of his voice that made me lift my heavy foot from the accelerator and turn toward him out of worry. My eyes grew large at the sight of him, his hair even more out of place than the usual messy look, obvious tears and holes in his clothing where I could see blood-stained but clearly healed creamy skin underneath. The general look of him was tired and battle-scarred.

"What the _hell_ happened to you!" I questioned through my hiccupping sobs.

"Slow _down_ Charlotte." Castiel continued disapprovingly.

I glared at him as my tears dried, leaving clear tear tracks along my cheeks as I rolled my eyes. But I did as he said and slowed the mustang's erratic pace before I silently led the car down an exit ramp of a little town not far from Bobby's. The car slid to a stop underneath a tree that gave off shade and I sighed as I put the gear in park, relaxing back into my seat and staring straight ahead even though I could feel Castiel's patient gaze on me, waiting.

"He said he couldn't _trust_ me." I mumbled after a few minutes.

I don't know why I'm telling him this, why I feel like I can talk to this angel that I've known for just under a week and only seen twice (well actually three) times now. But something inside of me trusted the divine creature and at a time where I felt somewhat unwelcome with my own flesh and blood…I _needed_ him. The thought brought another to my mind and my gaze narrowed, swinging to the angel in confusion.

"How did you know…?" I trailed off, glancing at him quizzically.

"You needed me." Castiel murmured back, turning to look away through his window.

But I caught the expression on his face, the look of uncertainty and confusion mixed with something else that I couldn't quite decipher and I wondered what it meant, what he was hiding.

"Who doesn't trust you?" Castiel asked, turning back to face me with a smoothed over face, calling me back from my musings.

"That _ass_ you pulled from Hell." I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

A moment of silence passed as I stared out the windshield and Castiel stared at me.

"Do you regret my actions?" He finally questioned in a soft voice, his features furrowing in confusion and maybe even a little anger.

I looked at him in shock as I shook my head violently. "_No_! Absolutely not Castiel, I could never even _begin_ to thank you for rescuing Dean, I just…I can't believe he said that."

Biting down on my lip, I looked away from Castiel's reassured but still confused expression and ran fingers through my hair, brushing it back from my face. He watched the movement carefully, almost like he was cataloging it and trying to figure out the meaning behind the action or storing it away for reference at another time.

"Why did he say that?" Castiel continued on.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation before looking back at him. "Why do you think?"

He simply gazed at me silently, his brows furrowed and arched down again and I laughed shortly, though it was without humor.

"It _might_ be because I have an angelic homing sign permanently itched into my hip." I deadpanned.

Castiel looked confused for only a moment more before realization dawned on his face when I pointed to my hip and then a mixture of emotions I wasn't even sure he could really feel passed through his features quickly, the most intense being anger.

At Dean.

"It's fine." I murmured quickly, worrying for my brother's fate. "He's just confused. He can't grasp the concept of your existence and the fact that I'm somehow…_linked_ to you…it freaks him out."

Castiel and I gazed at each other in silence for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes as the heat from my hip built and coursed throughout my body yet again. I had yet to ask him about it and was thinking now might be as good a time as any when his head suddenly whipped to the side and he seemed to gaze off at something millions of miles away. When he turned back to me his face had hardened into something that struck me as warrior-like and vicious.

"I must go. Be _careful_ Charlotte, now is _not_ a safe time for you, or your brothers." Castiel murmured distractedly.

I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell he meant by that, _again_, but once more with a soft touch to my forehead and the flutter of wings…he was gone.

* * *

A few hours later I made it back to Bobby's and immediately noticed the Impala's absence which made my spine stiffen in confusion. I sighed and parked before grabbing my shopping bags (retail therapy helps _any_ girl) and my drink. I stepped through the backdoor and kicked it closed with the toe of my shoe, shouting out to Bobby as I headed to the stairs.

"Where's _dipshit_ and the brain?"

A throat cleared in the study and I peeked my head around the corner to find Dean gathering supplies in a knapsack, Bobby mimicking his actions by his desk.

"Ah, found him." I remarked, taking a sip from my extra-large Dr Pepper.

"_Funny_." Dean muttered.

I shrugged and looked to Bobby who had been gazing at Dean meaningfully, like he was trying to send him messages through his thoughts.

"Well, I'll be upstairs." I said, turning my back on the both of them.

"Charley..._wait_." Bobby muttered.

My eyebrow arched and I turned back toward the duo, waiting for one of them to speak. My eyes trained on Bobby, ignoring my older brother pointedly.

"We're packing up. There's a hunter one state over that I haven't been able to get in contact with in over three days." Bobby supplied, tying off his duffle.

I nodded and turned back toward the staircase. "I'll hang here."

"_No_." Dean and Bobby said simultaneously.

My feet came to a stop on the second step up and I turned back around to gaze at them steadily, accusingly. "What? Now I'm not _trustworthy_ enough to stay home?"

The sneer was malicious and I recognized it for what it was, but I kept the look of shock off my face. I was quickly growing accustomed to foreign feelings and actions after all that had happened. I brushed it off as lack of sleep, four months of nightmares could do that to any person.

"It's just…not safe." Bobby filled the silence that had lengthened after my words.

I snorted sarcastically and thundered up the stairs, stomping heavily even though I recognized the action to be that of an immature child.

But Dean was acting like one, so why shouldn't I?


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Note:** New chapter update! Hope you all enjoy! This has Charlotte and Castiel's POV's in it. Who do you think Charlotte is being visited by in her dreams and what could it mean for our Castilotte couple?

I still can't promise routine or constant updates. Some days are better than others for the writing and editing process. I CAN promise though, that as soon as I get a chapter written and edited I will not hesitate to post it for your reading pleasure. I hope you all understand and continue to work with me, don't give up on Charlotte and Castiel.

Go team Castilotte!

Happy Reading!

Pairing: CastielxOFC- Charlotte Faith Winchester

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

The darkness filled my vision.

It wasn't total blackness though, it had tinges of red that streaked across the general blackness, giving my surroundings an almost three-dimensional effect even though my eyes were closed and something was blindfolding me tightly. I struggled to move and winced as restricting bindings cut into my wrists, ankles and across my flat stomach, the sharp sting stealing the breath of heavy air from my lungs. Despite the searing pain I struggled again, determined to free myself from whatever contraption I was held in. The sound of chain clinking together filled my ears and I looked around myself even though I knew I couldn't see.

"I've been waiting to see _you_ again my dear."

A slippery voice that hissed on its S's oozed from someone, or _something_, a few yards in front of me and I ceased all movement. I couldn't place it, yet it had a familiar ring to it like I had heard it before.

"I always did enjoy when I'd get to see you."

The voice hissed again, much closer this time, and a wave of revulsion and disgust rolled through me when a calloused finger made contact with the skin of my neck before it trailed down over my collarbone and arm. The voice chuckled darkly, like it knew exactly how I felt and my lip curled up into a sneer.

"What?" It murmured almost childishly. "My touch isn't as good as his?"

My face froze in shock, mimicking my body when the voice first rang out in the room that was so full of pain I was pretty sure that I could actually _feel_ it. I was also almost positive the voice was male, but stranger things had happened and I could be dead wrong. His chuckle morphed into something twisted and ugly and I remained silent, refusing to utter a word or give in to asking questions.

If my suspicions were correct, he meant Castiel.

When he moved closer to me I felt it, but in the weirdest way. It was like the voice's essence was pushing on my magnetic field, permeating it with a darkness that was so bitter it left an acrid taste in my mouth. It pushed itself against me and I felt it along the length of my body, though it wasn't solid like a person, not entirely. My mind was racing to figure that bit of information out when something moist and hot dipped into the hollow of my throat, provoking a low growl from me and a chuckle from him.

"He's the _good_ one. An angelic son of God, born a holy warrior."

The voice mused and I cringed inwardly as something like hands ran up my bare side, slipping over my skin.

"But he's not allowed to _feel_ anything baby, he's only a shell following his orders."

I held still, refusing to move or show any sign of weakness as whatever the hell it was helped itself to a free grope of my body, the rough and almost slimy hands moving over the bare skin of my sides and stomach before sliding up my arms to my neck and hair. His heated touch from them and the tongue-like feel moving across my throat between words were making me scream and hiss inside, flip-flopping me from pure panic to utter rage.

"_Me_ though? I can feel, and there's nothing I'd love more than to feel _you_. Slipping and squirming with me Charlotte, I could make you something _so_ much more powerful than what you are. I'm the big bad to his good baby, give me a try."

A sharp nip like fangs against my throat was the provoking factor that set me off, and rage won out.

"_Fuck_ you, you slimy piece of shit." I hissed out, finally breaking my silent treatment.

The room was quiet for a moment and all I could hear were the dim sounds of screaming, pain and fear coming from what was another room I'd suppose as my vision stayed curtained. Suddenly a dark laugh filled the room, right near my ear, deep and rumbling like whatever the hell this was had just heard the funniest thing in its life.

"Yesss…" It hissed through the laughter. "_That_ can be arranged."

I sneered in response.

Just like that, my vision was cleared, the blindfold ripped away from my face in seconds as the laughter died as quickly as it started though a slight chuckle remained. I expected to have to blink but it turns out I didn't, the room was already dark enough that it didn't seem necessary. The blackness tinged with red stayed, though it was slightly brighter now without the cover in front of my eyes. That's not what held my gaze though, what _did_ was the sight directly level with mine.

Eyes.

Black pools that seemed to be filled with something like fire.

"There's the hint of a bad girl I've watched all these years."

His slimy voice rang out with a flash of fang as the eyes burned into me, looking nothing along the lines of human. I held in the gasp that strained at my lips and kept myself from flinching away from him, determined not to budge. Inside though, my mind was racing.

This thing had _watched_ me?

_Knew_ me?

What the hell _WAS_ it?

"You keep it hidden, but it's there. Always waiting…" It murmured, staring at me intently. "Speaking of waiting, tell me fair Winchester, where _is_ your holy boy now?"

I simply glared, once again refusing to speak. But the voice had a point.

Where was Castiel?

He _always_ showed up in his true visage during these things, filling the room with bright white light and that shrill but musical voice of his, ripping me away from the darkness and depositing me in a cloudlike fluffy warmness for the rest of my sleep. Oh God…what if...

What if I _wasn't_ sleeping?

Was I _dead_?

Did I go to Hell?

"No sweet child, you aren't dead and you are sleeping. The last question though," His chuckle filled the room again. "I'll let you make your _own_ assumptions on that one."

A sharp jolt seemed to rock my body, the chains stirring restlessly, and the eyes seemed to turn down in a gesture that reminded me of the way eyes looked when they frowned. It uttered a sigh and stepped, or floated (I'm not really sure) back some, seemingly resigned.

"Until next time Charlotte."

I glared at the murmur, feeling myself being jolted again and again, not really understanding what was happening.

"In your _dreams_ asshole."

A light chuckle filled the room again as I was seemingly being pulled away from the vision, the eyes dropping further and further back until I could no longer make them out anymore as the darkened room disappeared. The words still reached me though, floating on some unseen wind as I was yanked from the vision.

"No baby, in _yours_."

* * *

_~Castiel's POV~_

Castiel stood alongside his brothers, fighting off yet another seal that the demon Lilith seemed intent on breaking.

Why she wanted to raise Lucifer when it basically meant the end for any demon's favorite play thing, a human vessel, was something that Castiel _still_ could not comprehend. He wasn't in charge of comprehending though; he _was_ in charge of fighting and following his orders from their Father.

The fight so far that day had been a long one, starting just before the angel had flown to see his human, the sister of the Winchester brothers and the one with Enochian markings branded into her skin that he, Castiel, had sealed permanently without understanding how or why.

"_My_ human?" Castiel thought to himself, confused.

The fight for this seal was supposed to be something easily handled, that's why he hadn't joined his brothers. Not long after seeing Charlotte and witnessing her unfathomable reaction to his presence, an alarm had rung.

His brothers had died.

Lilith's lower level goons had proven to be not so lower level and Castiel, warrior that he was, had been needed. He had left her with a warning, cryptic at best he had come to realize even though he'd had _two_ chances to deliver it, about the rising of the witnesses.

And now her fear, at least that's what Castiel _thought_ humans called it, was rocking him.

It distracted him from battle and called to him, signaling a need to fly to her that he could not explain even as he tried. It made something flutter in his chest, an emotion that he _wasn't_ supposed to have, and though he wanted to desperately understand why it was happening he did not want to question the archangel he fought beside now.

He would _not_ fall.

"Where is your warrior's strategy brother?" Gabriel shouted across to him. "You are distracted Castiel."

The angel ignored the question for moments, scrambling for an answer that would not involve bringing up the girl. He could not afford to let the archangel by his side into such thoughts until Castiel understood what was happening better.

"The seal on their plane is already broken brother, the Winchesters will remain. It is _God's_ will."

Gabriel reassured him, thinking it was Castiel's charges that he was worried about. Castiel nodded in confirmation and quickly moved to scale the attack further, ignoring the desperate need and pull from Earth and Charlotte.

They must _not_ lose this seal.

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

"_Charley_!"

Yelling filled my ears and I was jolted once more as a swift whooshing sound accompanied the loudness of what sounded like my brother's panicked voice.

"Charlotte! _Wake_ _up_!"

Dean tried again and shook me once more but I wasn't coherent enough yet to make any sort of noise in acknowledgement of his pleas. The sound of another door opening creaked through my hearing and an extra set of warm hands grabbed onto my ankles, shaking me there.

"Jesus _why_ isn't she waking up Sam?" Dean shouted. "She's not waking up and the last thing I said to her was so shitty, I'm such a-"

"Jacksass?" I croaked, coughing on the words.

"_Charlotte_!" Dean shouted, yanking me from my horizontal position in the Impala.

I huffed out a breath when he slammed me into his chest, grasping me tightly, before I snaked my arms around his waist. Dean didn't usually react by hugging it out, they were rare and typically reserved for me, so I immediately reciprocated despite our argument earlier in the day. I coughed again and looked around, blinking in the darkness that made my blood run cold before I realized that it was only nighttime and that I _wasn't_ back in my dream with that thing.

That voice.

"What the hell _happened_ to you?" Dean grumbled, stepping back.

I shrugged innocently. "Heavy sleeper, bad dream."

Sam slung an arm over my shoulder and pulled me to his freakishly tall form, pressing a kiss to the top of my head even though he was my little brother and I was the one who used to do that to him.

"Castiel?" Dean hissed out, accusation clear in his tone.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "No Dean. _Not_ Castiel. Not angelic in _any_ form."

Shuddering, I turned away from Dean's sharp gaze as he seemed to calculate my words, reading into them the truth that I didn't want him to know _or_ see. Why? Because I was pretty sure that my dreams had been visited by a slimy demon.

And I was pretty sure I'd glimpsed Hell.

There wasn't a way to explain it, I didn't know how, and I didn't want to try until I talked to Pam about it. Or Castiel…though I was becoming increasingly anxious about the flighty angel. As much as he came and went, he hadn't missed a dream of mine since the night he'd pulled Dean from Hell, it was strange and completely unusual for him _not_ to show up.

And it hadn't gone unnoticed by my dream visitor.

"Where are we anyway?" I murmured, running my fingers through my hair.

I didn't want to talk about the dream or what I'd seen yet. I'd talk to Dean about it soon enough, he could wait for a while; just like I could apparently wait for whatever it was he had hidden. I looked around, taking in the darkened street and the tall buildings around us.

"Olivia Lowry's. She's the hunter I was talking about that I haven't been able to get in contact with." Bobby's voice came from my left.

I glanced around to find him eyeing me with concern and a bit of wariness before he smoothed his old rough neck features and handed me the tall soft drink like he did so many times on a trip. I nodded my thanks and sucked in a large gulp through the straw, enjoying the sharp bubbles and sting of carbonation flowing down my throat to my stomach.

"Well…" I murmured. "We're not getting any younger. Let's get to it."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Author's Note:** Still trying to achieve some normalcy in life but I cranked out a chapter to further my angelic story! I seriously adore Castiel, I watch clips of him like all the timeee. Misha's bloopers are hilarious, gah and that _smile_! Anyway, here we are! Dean and Charlotte are definitely going through a rough patch as of now and that'll probably be on and off for a while until more comes out about her connection with Cas! Hope you all enjoy!

I still can't promise routine or constant updates. Some days are better than others for the writing and editing process. I CAN promise though, that as soon as I get a chapter written and edited I will not hesitate to post it for your reading pleasure. I hope you all understand and continue to work with me, don't give up on Charlotte and Castiel.

Go team Castilotte!

Happy Reading!

Pairing: CastielxOFC- Charlotte Faith Winchester

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

The four of us climbed the stairs to Olivia's door and I took position between Bobby and Dean, glancing around our surroundings for anything that seemed off. But there was nothing, all looked completely normal, nothing amiss. Bobby opened the heavy wooden door, swinging it open easily with his gun raised already.

"Olivia?"

I walked through into the foyer, my brothers following close behind me. As soon as I stepped further into the apartment though, the stench of days old death hit my nose. It was extremely potent and I gagged a little as it soaked my senses in the heavy scent. Bobby pulled up quickly to a stop and I actually ran into him, muttering a curse as Dean then ran into me.

"Bobby what the-" I hissed.

"Char." Dean murmured, squeezing my shoulder.

I turned to look at him but didn't make it all the way around because the sight of Olivia's broken and mangled body on the floor across the rooms in front of us had me freezing in shock, pulling in a sharp gasp. Bobby jostled me then when he turned, running into me as he hurried from the apartment.

"Bobby?" Dean called after him.

"Bobby _wait_!" I shouted, frowning.

I turned to follow but Dean grabbed ahold of my shoulder, pulling me back toward him and holding me in place.

"Let him go Charley."

Sam moved forward then into the apartment and I frowned again at the door Bobby had disappeared through but I followed after Sam when Dean nudged me gently. We crossed the living room before Sam's murmur filled the room.

"Salt line." He said, pointing.

The three of us stepped over it gingerly into the bedroom, Sam kneeled down over Olivia's body while Dean stood beside it and I looked around. Not much seemed out of place, the bed was made and no furniture was toppled over, no sulfur from what I could see either. The only thing showing signs of something supernatural attacking her was the salt line and the closet door which had been thrown open, leaving her weapons clearly visible.

"Olivia was rocking the EMF meter." I murmured, reaching out and taking hold of the piece of machinery.

Dean came up behind me glancing over my shoulder and I passed the meter to him with an arched brow while Sam looked up at us from his hunched position on the floor.

"Spirit activity." He murmured, nodding.

"Yeah." Dean snorted. "On steroids. I've never seen a ghost do _this_ to a person."

"Seriously, her chest is _ripped_ out." I murmured, narrowing my eyes.

A scuffling sound reached our ears, breaking my brothers and I out of our staring trance down at the bloody hunter below us. We looked up to find Bobby walking hurriedly back inside the apartment. He looked lost almost and I felt a chill run up my spine in clear warning that something was up, and it wasn't good. I instinctively stepped closer to Dean, so much so that I could feel his body heat radiating off of him and into me.

I'd _never_ seen the old hunter look like that, ever.

"Bobby?" I whispered. "Are you alright?"

He glanced up at us in confusion, holding his cell phone lightly in his hand.

"I called some hunters nearby…" He spoke, staring at Olivia's body.

"Good, we could use their help." Dean muttered with a shake of his head.

I smacked his arm lightly, ignoring the glare he sent my way, and nodded my head in the direction of Bobby who was still staring at the open cell phone in his hand like he'd seen a ghost, literally.

"…except they ain't answering their phone neither."

My eyebrows shot up high on my forehead as Bobby finished his sentence, that gut feeling inside of me that doom was quickly approaching becoming that much more potent at his words. If other hunters in the area weren't answering their phones and this one here was literally ripped apart, what condition were the others in? Bobby tucked his phone in his vest pocket and I swallowed the lump in my throat as I drug my free hand that wasn't occupied with a gun through my hair, picking at the few tangles left in my long locks from the drive.

"Something's up, huh?" Sam questioned, his features worried.

"You _think_?" I sighed with a shake of my head.

Bobby just looked at us before gazing at Olivia's body with a pained expression and a shake of his head. I bit my lip, worrying over my surrogate father as he turned his back on my brothers and I to exit the small apartment and leave his friend there. Sam turned to Dean and I with another worried glance and I met Dean's wide and uncomprehending eyes before he looked down at me and squeezed my hip, guiding me from the bloody apartment with Sam close on our heels.

* * *

We spent the next hour at a diner, plates of greasy food in front of us and cell phones glued to our ears as we each made the rounds of phone calls to all the hunters we knew, warning them of what we'd found. A few simply laughed it off, making each of us frown in turn as we tried to convince them to watch their asses. I'd just gotten off a call with one particular jerk of a hunter before I decided to take a breath, sinking my teeth into the burger Dean had ordered for me (_without_ asking I might add) and pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration.

_"If you wanted to maybe add some light on the situation,"_ I thought miserably. _"Now would be as good a time as any Castiel."_

Nothing.

I don't know why I thought it'd work, if I thought that he'd just fill my mind with his high but warming voice or show up randomly like he had done the day before and tell me what the _hell _was going on down here on Earth, but that wasn't the case. There was only silence in my mind and the dim sounds of people enjoying their food while Dean, Sam and Bobby talked strategy.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the table and startled me out of my thoughts about the confusing angel. I dropped the burger on the plate and snapped my hand out to take up the phone, swiping the call to connect it.

"Whatcha need gorgeous?"

I sighed in relief when the rough but soothing tone of Ellen's voice, a lot like Bobby's actually, filtered through the line. It was calming my inner worries about her and Jo almost immediately.

"Oh thank _God_." I murmured. "I was seriously starting to freak the he-"

"Watch your mouth girl." Ellen interrupted me, bringing a smile to my face.

"Yes ma'am." I grinned into the phone. "Are you an Jo alright? We've been running into some real nasty stuff up here and it all seems to be centered around-"

"Hunters?" Ellen asked, talking over Jo's shouted greetings.

I could almost hear her shoo the girl away from the phone and I snickered quietly. Jo and I were practically like sisters when we were around each other and we managed to keep in touch, usually calling each other once or twice a week to catch up.

"Yeah, hunters." I answered the mother figure in my life.

"Us too." Ellen sighed, sounding tired. "Can't get a handle on it though."

"Neither can we." I paused for a moment before lowering my voice. "It can't be good though Ellen. I mean, targeting _hunters_? Someone's pulling some serious strings."

Silence filled the line and I could barely make out the sound of glass clinking against glass, a sign that Ellen was pouring herself a drink. I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, ignoring the expectant looks from Dean who sat next to me while Bobby and Sam continued on their conversations on the phone.

"You're not kidding." Ellen muttered.

I snorted quietly before my voice turned serious. "Watch your backs."

"You too sugar," Ellen sighed. "You too."

Nodding even though she couldn't see me, I disconnected the call and took a long sip of my carbonated caffeine before taking another bite out of the hamburger in front of me and muttering to Dean that Jo and Ellen were fine. The relief was visible in his eyes and I smirked slightly, knowing full well his attachment to Jo even though he'd never admit it. I couldn't for the life of me get why they didn't just get together. Hunter's life or not, everyone needs someone in this life.

It wasn't long before we were finishing up, Bobby laying down the money for the tab as we made our way from the diner. I made a beeline for the Impala, knowing already that I wouldn't be following with Dean and Sam in the plan the guys had laid out on the diner table. The idea was to go around and check up on some of the hunters we hadn't been able to get ahold of, just to see if they were in the same condition we'd found Olivia in. My main problem with the whole thing was that it left Bobby all by his damn self, and there was _no_ way I was going to let that happen.

I'd just grabbed my duffel from the trunk when Dean's voice cut through the conversation, confusion in his tone.

"What the hell are you doing Char?" He asked, watching me closely with those bright green orbs of his.

I sighed quietly. "I'm going with Bobby."

"The _hell_ you are." Dean muttered with a shake of his head.

I arched a brow and cocked my right hip out to the side, propping my hand on it as I stared him down with a classic bitch face. It wasn't often I resorted to the pose, but lately he'd been a little overpowering and I had a feeling it had something to do with Castiel coming around.

"Separating isn't smart right now as it is, I'm sure as hell not letting him go by _himself_." I snapped, annoyed.

If Dean actually took a second to stop and think about what I was saying, he'd instantly agree. It was like he was worried if he let me out of his sight for one second the damn angel was going to come down and steal me away to Heaven or something. I hadn't forgotten for even one second what he'd done back at the house, despite the ease that had settled between us as we worked together at Olivia's and in the diner. But we weren't working together now and he was back to overly worrying about my connection to the angel.

And I was _sick_ of it.

"I don't want you alone where that fluttering freak can-" Dean started, stepping up to me.

I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation as I shouted back at him. "Oh for heaven's sake, I'll be with _Bobby_! Not by myself!"

"I can watch you better myself." Dean snapped, finality in his tone.

My eyes narrowed and I shook my head, darting around him and throwing my bag into the backseat of Bobby's car through the open window. Dean made a move to retrieve it but I blocked his way, my face tinting pink as anger began to curl up and force its way through my veins.

"You're being ridiculous." I muttered. "I'm still _me_."

Dean's eyes narrowed as well, boring into my eyes. "Are you really? Even with that…that _thing_ or whatever it is burned into your skin?"

Tiredness quickly replaced the anger I had felt only moments before and I popped the passenger side door open before sliding into the car, shutting the door again quickly before Dean could block the way. I gazed up at him from my position in the seat, letting the full effect of the hurt I felt at everything he'd said as of late show in my eyes and on my face. His features instantly softened, a look of regret shining through. We'd never fought like this, _ever_, not even when we'd hit our most crappy moments. We'd come through so much and now here we were, at complete odds over something as amazing as an angel.

"I'm still your _sister_ Dean." I sighed with a shake of my head. "I love you, despite your doubts in me now."

And with that I patted the dash of Bobby's car, a clear signal for him to pull out and leave. He glanced at first Dean and then me worriedly but I kept my eyes trained ahead through the windshield. He gave off a rumbling growl almost and shifted the car into gear, pulling out of the diner parking lot and leaving Dean and Sam behind on the asphalt. I watched my brothers get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirrors as I bit into my lip until the bitter taste of blood once more filled my mouth.

It wasn't until they disappeared from view that I finally let the tears I'd been holding at bay, run free.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Author's Note:** Another new chapter here! I'm getting on a roll with this one here so yay for all the Angelic Faith lovers! So I had another shipping name sent to me from a reader's review (Hi Mae!) and I absolutely loveeee it! I think it's my new favorite and the one I'll be using for Charlotte and Castiel now, but if you love the other feel free to continue to use it. Or if you have a suggestion of your own, let me know! I love hearing about your love for the story! Thanks for all the new reviews, favorites and follows- you guys rock!

I still can't promise routine or constant updates. Some days are better than others for the writing and editing process. I CAN promise though, that as soon as I get a chapter written and edited I will not hesitate to post it for your reading pleasure. I hope you all understand and continue to work with me, don't give up on Charlotte and Castiel.

Go team Charstiel!

Happy Reading!

Pairing: CastielxOFC- Charlotte Faith Winchester

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

I slept soundly, and for once it wasn't because of Castiel's divine presence blocking off the hellish nightmares that plagued my unconscious state. I think I was so damn tired after the original confrontation with Dean and then finding Olivia's mangled body before having yet _another_ argument with my newly resurrected brother that the nightmares just couldn't break through the haze of my exhaustion. It wasn't until Bobby lifted me into his arms from my slumped position in the car to carry me inside that I came too, but just barely.

"Put me down." I grumbled, though I didn't struggle. "I'm too heavy."

Bobby snorted sarcastically in response as he kicked the car door shut and made his way up the back porch steps to the door.

"He _hates_ me." I whimpered pitifully and shivered as the cool night air wrapped around me.

"He doesn't hate you." Bobby growled, fixing me with a glare I could see even through the haze of sleep. "He just doesn't understand what's going on, and you keepin' details to yourself ain't helpin' none."

I sighed, my head lolling back against his shoulder as he shut the door with his foot again, sliding the lock home and into place. I could feel myself drifting again and I vaguely wondered just how tired I really was and what Bobby and the boys had discovered at the other hunters' houses, but I didn't ask. When I blinked we were in my bedroom that he'd given to me after Dean's death and Bobby laid me gently down on the plush bed after pulling the comforter back. I muttered something gratefully and was able to make out a small smile on the rough man's face before he literally tucked me in, whispering his goodnights.

Just like that, I was out once more.

It was the freezing cold that woke me up in a confused haze because Bobby _never_ turned the AC down so far that it could get this cold. It was an older modeled house which meant that it wasn't exactly energy-efficient and it'd cost double the monthly bill to keep it so cold. He was going to be so pissed if Dean or Sam had messed with the thermostat and on that idea alone I decided to get up and turn it back up. When I finally opened my blurry eyes and caught the faint smoke coming from my mouth when I breathed out, that's when I froze.

"Good you're awake."

The deep and familiar voice lingered on the word good and sent a chill down my spine, though it wasn't the pleasant kind that Castiel's voice brought. Instead it was one of pure fear because I knew already there was no way that voice could be here.

Because _that_ voice had died along with its owner.

And that was three and a half years ago.

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying it was only a nightmare or a terrible dream like I used to have right after leaving him. But the dark chuckle and creaking of the old wood that made up the bay window seat on the far side of my room made my eyes snap open again. Heavy footsteps sounded through the room, slowly circling my bed to make their way to the side where he could face me as I gently lowered my hand to the bedside dresser for the gun waiting there between it and the bed.

"You always _did_ sleep late when you didn't have anything to do the next morning."

I ignored him and yanked the gun up to my chest just as he rounded the corner of the mattress and came to a stop. I whipped up into a sitting position to face him, my mouth opening in shock at the sight of him even though I had already guessed who it was by the sound of his voice. A new chill crept down my spine bringing with it goose bumps prickling across my bare skin, though it wasn't just because of the cold that surrounded me.

He smirked when his eyes landed on the shotgun. "You don't need _that_ Charlotte, I'm just here to talk."

I sucked in a breath, my eyes still wide with fear as I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat making it nearly impossible to speak. If I _could_ that was, I actually wasn't sure that I could say anything that would be comprehensible, but I gave it a shot.

"Wh-what are you doing here Matthew?"

He snorted, a derisive and sarcastic sound that made me recoil when he stepped closer to kneel at the bedside in front of me. The paleness of his skin made me nauseous, a visible reminder that he was dead even though his arm was reaching toward me, his fingers smoothing across my cheek before flipping my long hair back over my shoulder as he did so many times years ago. I vaguely noticed some sort of burn on his wrist but it was gone from my sight too quickly to get a good look when he went to stroke my hair.

"Isn't it obvious?" Jackson whispered, the deep dark chocolate of his eyes gazing up into mine.

I shook my head, only a slight movement in his nearness. The coolness of his breath curled out to touch my cheek and it felt like ice sliding down the sensitive skin as his eyes dipped to my lips then back up again.

"Back from the dead baby," He snickered, an evil gleam lighting his eyes. "Just for _you_."

* * *

_~Castiel's POV~_

Fear.

At least that's what he thought it was since it resembled what he'd felt before but he couldn't fully be sure. He'd asked multiple other angels about understanding human emotions since he was stationed on Earth so much of the time and was in charge of keeping watch over the Winchester brothers, but so many didn't care. Humans were just a tool to them and their emotions didn't really matter.

But Castiel was almost _certain_ it was fear.

The real question was how he could feel it so potently, rolling through him in waves from somewhere deep in the core of his vessel. It was Charlotte, he was almost positive of it, but he still didn't understand how she could be so connected to him. The brothers he could tune into because he was their guardian, but her...this...it was like her very essence was _tied_ to him.

It _had_ to have something to do with the brand on her hip.

Castiel shook his head before turning back to Gabriel, his face blank of the confusion he felt. He had yet to ask the higher angel if he understood what any of it meant, and he still wasn't sure that Gabriel was the one to ask. He had to choose wisely who he sought for advice; it could very well mean the end of both the Winchester sister and himself.

"Trouble on the ground?" Gabriel questioned, his head tipped to the side.

Castiel's face hardened but he decided to nod curtly, still determined to show little to the other angel by his side.

"They are battling with their first witnesses." Castiel murmured, his eyes scanning the horizon.

The battle they had waged was still ongoing, though it seemed to be lessening. He wanted to believe it was the side of God that was prevailing, wanted to do right by their Father, but he wasn't so sure. While more demons had been put down than angels, it was still a loss in a sense. Angels were a fewer number than demons, though there were thousands still yet, but the loss of one was felt stronger than that of the demonic variety.

"They will be _fine_ brother." Gabriel reassured, his hand clasping the other angel's shoulder as their feathers rustled in the wind.

"You are certain?" Castiel questioned, his inquisitive gaze turning toward the higher angel.

"Of course!" Gabriel's laugh sounded around them, high and jovial. "As I said, it's God's Will. Our Father will protect them while you cannot. Right now, you are needed here."

Castiel bit back the sigh of something like frustration, knowing full well that was much too much like a human emotion and action to display in front of Gabriel. It already seemed there was a mischievous gleam in the angel's eye, as if he knew something that Cas did not, and it made the lower angel uncomfortable.

"How do we stand?" Castiel asked, his voice hardening into that of the detached angelic warrior he was.

Gabriel clapped him on the back once more with a bright grin before looking out at the battle, a slight frown turning the corners of his quick smile down as his eyes flitted around.

"I count seven fallen, but I think we are about done." Gabriel murmured. "This one will be ours."

Castiel nodded, ignoring the rising panic and fear he felt inside him as he concentrated on the task at hand. If he could finish up his duties here, then he could go to her. He didn't question the idea or why it seemed important to do so, only followed by his brother's side to finish the job, protecting the seal from Lilith.

At _all_ costs.

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

"Bobby!"

My scream echoed out over the sharp ring that was still resounding in my ears after letting off a shot right in the ghostly face of my ex-boyfriend who had sneered and called me baby before coming at me with his fingers curled like claws. My breathing was rapid, fear and panic making it sharp and too fast for me to really absorb the oxygen that I was taking into my lungs.

But when your _dead_ ex-boyfriend pops up in your room to watch you sleep, I would think it buys you a moment or two of pure freaking-the-hell-out time.

"Bobby!" I shouted down the stairs, keeping my gun level with my eyes.

Nothing.

Silence was all the old house had for me, that and the sound of my soft footsteps as I padded through the hall, checking each room I came across for the old hunter or signs of my new and unwelcome guest.

"Now babe," Matthew muttered, flickering up in front of me. "That's no way to say good-"

I fired another round right into the place that served as his head without waiting for the end of his sarcastic sentence, ignoring the tug of guilt in my heart as the rock salt dispelled of the ghost immediately. The last thing I needed to be doing right now was taking a trip down guilty memory lane over the ass that'd frozen me from bed this morning.

"_Bobby!"_ I shouted, stopping halfway down the stairs and bending at the waist to peer through the lower half of the house. "Dammit, where the hell _are_ you?"

The sound of screeching tires filled the space outside of the house and I ducked down the last few steps on the staircase, already anticipating my brothers' arrival. Well, praying for it was more like it since I had no idea if it was really them or not, but now seemed like an excellent time to show up. You know, considering everything. Two shadows bounded up the porch steps through the windows and I raised my gun, just in case it didn't turn out to be Sam and Dean. It was though and I rolled my eyes at their less than quiet entrance.

"_Bobby_?" Sam shouted in a low tone while Dean shouted out my name in the same fashion.

I was about to answer from my ducked down position when Matthew flickered back to life again, right behind them. He sneered at me evilly before lifting his hands, his fingers once again curled like claws as they rocketed through the air toward the space on Dean's back that would lead toward his heart.

"DOWN!" I shouted, my voice tearing through the silence of the house.

Sam and Dean ducked without question, flattening themselves on the floor, and I let off a shot of rock salt straight to the heart of where Matthew's ghost form was standing. A small smirk lit my face when he dissipated again and my brothers looked at me wide-eyed in surprise, but it was quickly replaced with a frown when Dean's words filled my ears.

"Henrickson tried to kill Sam." Dean muttered, pulling me toward him roughly. "Are you hurt?"

"He _what_?!" I cried, letting the gun fall level with my hip.

Dean only hummed in answer, his hands moving over me rapidly as he checked me for any sort of injury. There wasn't much, just a bruise from knocking my knee into the bedpost as I jumped from it in search of Bobby after I'd blasted Matthew the first time. Now that Dean was here, the full weight of what was going on and what he said was hitting me, making me a little unsteady on my feet.

"He wanted revenge." Sam muttered, picking up what looked like the iron poker from the fireplace.

I frowned as I gazed at it because I hadn't noticed it before. Something else had been here, something _besides_ Matthew. Maybe Bobby's own form of guilty and vengeful Hell? My head snapped back toward Dean when he shook me, asking me if I was alright again.

"It was _him_." I murmured, gazing up at him. "He said he came back for me."

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Him _who_?"

But Dean's eyes flickered in recognition, instantly understanding my vague words. Matthew was part of the reason I'd given up the career I'd been pursuing and left everything behind to hit the road with my brother. I'd helped him from time to time before, taking weekend trips with him and Dad when the need arose, but it wasn't until after everything with my ex-boyfriend that I'd joined the family business fulltime.

"You're _sure_?" Dean asked, his tone holding leashed fury.

I nodded adamantly, biting down on my lip. "Positive."

"Sorry to bother the both of you," Sam snapped, his eyes darting between us. "But who the hell are we talking about here?"

I sighed deeply, running my fingers through my hair in distraction before turning to face my little brother head on.

"Matthew." I muttered. "It's Matthew."

Sam gazed at me before gesturing with his hand, obviously wanting more information. I could see Dean stiffen from the corner of my eye as he watched me before scoping out the small hallway between the foyer and study we were wedged in.

"Matthew's my ex-boyfriend." I explained, gazing up at Sam. "And I'm the reason he's dead."


	10. Chapter Ten

**Author's Note:** New chapter for you Charstiel/Castilotte fans! I hope you enjoy it! Also, I happen to have a few paragraphs from the sequel, I'm pretty sure that I'm going to continue the story through the seasons, and I was wondering if you guys might enjoy that as a sneak peek? Maybe, just maybe (;  
Let me know! Thanks for all the new reviews, favorites and follows- you guys are the best!

Feedback is definitely wanted and welcomed, just no story bashing please! That's no fun! (:

*I still can't promise routine or constant updates. Some days are better than others for the writing and editing process. I CAN promise though, that as soon as I get a chapter written and edited I will not hesitate to post it for your reading pleasure. I hope you all understand and continue to work with me, don't give up on Charlotte and Castiel.

Go team Charstiel!

Happy Reading!

Pairing: CastielxOFC- Charlotte Faith Winchester

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, its characters, or any other copyrighted/trademarked material that may be mentioned in this story. I DO own my original character- Charlotte Winchester.**

* * *

_~Charlotte's POV~_

I winced as Sam's face took on his classic shocked and confused expression where he tilted his head to the side, his mouth opening and closing as he pointed from me to Dean and back again. Sighing quietly, I averted my eyes and Dean's clearing of his throat cut over Sam's sputters.

"Look, we don't have time for this right now, we need to find Bobby." Dean murmured in hushed tones. "Char, you're with me. Sam, you go check outside.

My little brother gave a quiet huff before disappearing around the corner and the soft sound of the backdoor shutting reached our ears seconds later before Dean turned to lead us up the stairs. I murmured that I'd already checked but conceded that it'd been a quick and distracted one, so I followed him lightly up the steps to check again. I stayed close to his back as we moved around the corner at the top of the stairs with my gun at eye level, ready for Matthew to flicker back into existence.

"Bobby?" Dean's whisper-shout filled the hallway, the only sound in the silence.

Or what _used_ to be the silence.

Doors in the hallway began slamming shut with heavy thuds one after the other until only the door at the end of the hall was left. Instead of slamming shut like the others though, this one creaked open slowly, all on its own. My eyes widened to what felt like twice their size as I glanced all around us, watching Dean's back as well as my own.

"This is _bad_ Dean." I murmured lowly, taking one step closer to him.

He grunted in response before nodding his head forward toward the opened door and we moved toward it, our steps softened and quieted by the thick rugs on the floor that we slowly walked over.

"Come out, come out whoever you are." Dean called, his eyes trained on the door.

"Seriously?" I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I sucked in a breath to heave a small sigh but the air that filled my lungs was ice-cold, almost burning throughout my chest. My eyes widened once more as I breathed out slowly, watching as the smoke curled from my open mouth into the hallway. I knocked Dean's arm, gesturing towards the white cloud coming from both of our mouths and he frowned before my spine tingled in warning and I froze.

"Dean Winchester," A female voice filled the air. "Still so _bossy_."

A masculine chuckle accompanied her words and Dean's eyes cut to me quickly before we each turned around, barely moving as we circled our bodies toward the voices. When our eyes landed on them I immediately tensed my finger on the trigger of my shotgun, keeping it level with the apparitions as Dean did the same, his jaw tight and tense.

"He always was." Matthew snorted, a surprisingly human sound for a ghost.

The girl's eyes narrowed at our silence, gazing at my brother hard before turning to me. "You don't recognize me?"

I sucked in a breath as memories flowed through my mind from the last few years, immediately bringing back recognition in regards to the girl who stood in front of us with Matthew smirking at her side.

"This is what I looked like _before_ that demon cut off my hair," The dirty blonde snarled. "And dressed me like a slut."

"Meg." Dean and I muttered, his tone more of a question where mine was an affirmation.

She grinned girlishly, throwing a wink Matthew's way before waving her fingers just slightly. "Hi."

Meg and Matthew both took a step toward us, making Dean snap his hands up to level the gun with her head while he shoved me back a step. The new position left me slightly behind him, his protective stance solid in front of me as he stared down the ghosts in front of us.

"_Relax_," Meg soothed, her hands held up in the air. "I'm not a demon."

I watched her closely, my eyes narrowing as I noticed Matthew inch around from the side a little closer to me than before. I nudged Dean slightly but he was too caught up in staring at the girl we couldn't save from the demon year before.

"You're the girl the demon possessed." Dean murmured, understanding moving across his face.

I took a new step back when Matthew sidled closer, not knowing what I should do. If we shot them, they'd dissipate and go away even if it was only for a little while. But if we kept them here, we might be able to get information from them to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Nice to finally talk to you when I'm not, you know…_choking_ on my own blood." Meg snapped, her eyes narrowing.

She stepped closer, keeping Dean distracted with her story of how she was possessed and what it was like to be trapped in her own mind as she moved. I bit into my lip, worrying about her and Matthew's continued progression of steps toward us, but every time I tried to snap Dean out of the trance of guilt he seemed to be stuck in it didn't work.

"You're supposed to _help_ people!" Meg shouted, closing in on us. "Both of you! Why didn't you help _me_!"

I swallowed tightly past the lump in my throat as tears burned my eyes while Matthew stared at me accusingly, never taking his eyes from my face.

"I'm sorry." Dean and I whispered to them at the same time.

"Stop saying you're sorry!"

Meg's scream filled the hallway before she slammed her fist into Dean's jaw, prompting my own scream as Dean crumpled to the ground at my feet with a heavy groan. I instantly started to duck down to him but was yanked back by my hair when Matthew's pale hand grabbed a fistful of it to stop me. I scratched and clawed at him with my free hand, ignoring his chuckles as I attempted to turn the gun in my right hand toward him but the sound of a foot connecting heavily with Dean's torso distracted me.

"_DEAN_!" I shouted, fighting against the restraining arms that wound around my middle. "Meg stop! _STOP_ it!

Dean's groans as her foot connected with his chest repeatedly tore at something inside me and I screamed again, fighting against Matthew who was steadily dragging me away from my brother after Meg had flicked her wrist, sending both Dean and my guns flying across the hallway.

Absolutely out of reach and of no use.

"Let me _go_!" I screamed, kicking out as Matthew hauled me backwards. "Matthew let me GO!"

I let the panic fill me for a few moments as I realized he was taking me away from the hallway with Dean and Meg and bringing me back to my bedroom. He wanted me alone, and I every idea that filled my mind at that thought said it couldn't be good. The blonde girl's smirk over her shoulder as Matthew forced me away only confirmed that suspicion and I yelled out again.

"DEAN!"

"Charlotte!" Dean shouted back, crawling on the ground toward me.

Only to have Meg kick him back again.

"No, no." She chastised. "Matthew can take _real_ good care of her, just let him worry about that."

Her giggle mixed with Matthew's chuckle, the sound of pure hatred and evil filling the hallway around us until he finally managed to yank me back through the door frame again. Dean's shouts were muffled by the old wooden door as Matthew flicked his hand out, and it slammed shut once more.

Separating me from Dean and leaving me alone with the ghost.

* * *

The old wooden floor scratched across my back where it was bare; convincing me that if I made it through this I'd certainly have splinters across my shoulder blades that would need to come out. I rolled away from where Matthew had thrown me down after backhanding me a few times when I wouldn't stop yelling for Dean until I connected with my dresser and sat up against it, gasping a little as I caught my breath from the hard impact.

"You know, I personally blame your family more than I blame you," Matthew mused darkly. "Of course I wasn't getting anything from the two of them like I was with _you_."

"Shut up." I growled, my eyes narrowing on him.

Matthew chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Still though, you'd always come when called. The perfect _dog_, obedient to a fault for her brother and father."

I flinched just slightly at the mention of Dad before steeling my spine and staring at him, refusing to let my reaction show at his words.

Matthew smirked devilishly as he paced back and forth in front of where I sat, milling about the room and looking at things here and there. He snorted a few times as he picked up pictures of my brothers and I through the years after we'd all started hunting together I'd put in frames after Dean's death and moving in to Bobby's fulltime. I inched my way toward my closet, moving only a little at a time while he was distracted in hopes he wouldn't notice the movement. There were a few extra guns right inside the door that I'd be able to snatch easily and use on him.

If I could just _get_ there that is.

Matthew stopped what he was doing and I froze as he looked down on me steadily before kneeling in front of me and making every muscle in my body stiffen. He reached out his pale fingers again to stroke them down my cheek and neck once more, his eyes roaming first over my face and then my body before landing on my lips. I shuddered when he leaned in some, the coolness of his breath even though he didn't need to breathe washed over me and made me shiver slightly.

He looked so…_normal_.

Just like he had before I'd left and then come back to find him dead on his apartment floor.

His medium length and almost black hair was tousled messily, like he'd been in a fight or just woken up. The melted chocolate of his eyes was dark as it always had been, but it lacked the warmth I'd always found there when I met his gaze. The paleness of his skin was what really did it, the clear sign that he was in fact _dead_; aside from the other ghostly symptoms.

It was so real I lost myself for a moment and reached up slowly to touch the hand he'd extended to my cheek, my fingers brushing over a raised burn on his wrist. Matthew's gaze was almost sad as he looked from my lips to my hand then back to my eyes again before he spoke.

"You're still so _beautiful_," He murmured, his tone longing. "And the glow surrounding you just makes it more obvious."

I frowned a little at that- _what_ _glow?_ -before opening my mouth.

"Matthew-"

The sharp sting of his palm connecting with my cheek cut off my words and sent me reeling backwards in shock after he'd hit me once more, rising fluidly to his feet with a look of grim determination on his face.

"You should have _told_ me." He shouted, fury coloring his tone.

I sucked in a breath, trying to stumble to my feet, but his heavy booted foot connecting with my stomach knocked me back to the ground again and I groaned deeply, mimicking my brother from earlier.

"I could have _left_." Matthew seethed. "Or at least learned how to protect myself so when that...that _thing_ came I could've fought!"

I whimpered quietly, my mind racing to figure out a backup plan when he kicked me away from the closet which held the only thing I could think that would come to my rescue since I could hear Meg shouting and yelling at Dean out in the hallway. Heavy sounds of impact had me freezing in fear for Dean but I shook it off, knowing I couldn't help him if I was getting the crap beat out of me in here.

"You didn't even give me the _CHANCE_!"

His shout echoed through the room and I screamed when his hands clasped around my ankles, snapping me back from where I'd been crawling away from him and pulling me right to him. He reached down and grabbed me, pulling me up straight in front of him as his fingers turned to almost clawed hands again and his eyes blazed with fury. I struggled in his hold as I actually managed to land a few hits to his jaw but he was one _seriously_ pissed off ghost with some extra juice behind him, _that_ I could tell, and his thick hands wrapped fully around my throat before he started to squeeze.

He was squeezing the air and life right out of me.

I was going to _die_.

Right here and now, I'd die at the hands of the ghost of my ex-boyfriend.

My legs kicked uselessly as Matthew lifted me clean off my feet and I struggled still yet, scratching and clawing at him even though it did no good and only made him laugh louder, the evil sound filling my mind and making thought almost impossible. My vision was swimming, black spots quickly taking residence and blotting out my surroundings until all that was left was his once handsome face leering up at me.

_"Charlotte!"_

I gasped around Matthew's hands when Castiel's voice filled my mind, blocking out the panic and fear as the angelic sound curled around me from the inside out, filling me with warmth.

_"You have to fight!"_

_"I-I can't! I can't breathe!"_ I thought, mentally stuttering as Matthew shook me in his grasp.

_"Fight him Charlotte! You cannot die!"_

The angel's almost panicked voice brought a slight smile to my face, much to Matthew's confusion, and I vaguely wondered what had him completely freaked out considering he just popped in and out of our lives when he wanted. What would it matter if I did die, I wasn't the one that God had plans for.

_"I said FIGHT!"_

Searing heat blasted through me and I heard Matthew actually yelp in pain before he dropped me and I crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. I looked up to find his hands completely blackened, his gaze shocked and confused as he look first at my eyes and then down toward my hip where the brand was and at the bright white light that glowed there.

"What the-" Matthew stuttered, charging forward.

The light burst forth from my hip, filling the room with its unimaginable brightness and I heard screams from Matthew.

I squinted and looked up from under my elbow that I'd thrown across my eyes to see him seemingly lighting on fire from the inside out, turning to dust and ash as if I had burned his bones. He looked at me accusingly and his screams continued until he was nothing but a charred pile on my hardwood floor. As soon as he was gone, the light dimmed considerably until it was only a faint sheen across the brand and seemed to seep back into my skin until it was no more.

I sat there, breathing heavily and glancing hastily back and forth from the pile that was once Matthew and back to my hip again. I dimly heard a heavy thud like something had crashed down the hallway, my ears were ringing just slightly, and then footsteps moving hurriedly down the hall until my door slammed open, Dean framed in the doorway.

His own breath came heavily as he swept the room with his eyes, his gun raised, until they landed on me. My brother moved to me then, leaning down quickly to scoop me up from the floor. The action made me wince, my breath hissing through my teeth in pain as Dean lifted my shirt to expose the already disgusting bruises forming where Matthew had kicked me.

"Son of a _bitch_." Dean muttered, "Where is he?"

I pointed shakily to the pile of ash on the floor and Dean looked from me to it with a confused look on his face.

"Jesus." He murmured.

I snorted quietly. "You're telling me."


End file.
